I walked down to the Potter’s House
one fine sunny day
to find the Potter hard at work
with a stubborn lump of clay.
He poked and prodded, pressed and pounded
then sighing in dismay
considered tossing that lump away.

But now instead of a darkened frown
His face lit up as He cast it down
And worked to form and bend it
to the new thing He intended.
Though starting with hope of a chalice cup
A sturdy chamber *** rose up.

A brand new lump, when He was done
was unwrapped, moistened, thrown and spun.
It yielded gladly in His hands.
To a chalice on the table stand.
The chamber *** began to say,
“But why have you made ME this way?”

“Why am I for common use
instead of a chalice for wine or juice?”

But the Potter said frankly, in reply
“It is not yours to question why.
Don’t I have the right to make
What I wish? It’s no mistake.
I used your temperament to find
your exact calling – for your sake.”

“I did not cast you in the heap
or throw you out into the street.
You still have found a useful place
and in this, I have shown you grace.
Though a chamber *** you be,
Be the best chamber ***, for me.”