What Others Are Saying:

Steve Case, through his emersion into the story, reminds us that the presence of the divine surrounds us continually and he teaches us how to tap into that presence.

 - Mary Beth Howe, Author:A Baptist Among Jews



The old man looked like a chubby old otter

As he quietly worked on the wheel of a potter

She stared at his hands and the clay and the water

She had come to there ask his advice.


She said, “Sometimes I feel like the color beige

Like a bowl of oatmeal or a dark, empty stage

It’s like my whole life is just a blank empty page

So I came here to ask your advice.


I mean, did you feel like this when you like me.

Right at the beginning of all that could be 

But you couldn’t get started and you couldn’t quite see

What your life was really about?”


But the potter was silent and stared at the wheel

And her anger boiled up and it was like he could feel

The pain in her heart that she tried to conceal

But her hands kept clenching into fists


The wheel kept on turning the way it will go

And the lump in his hand started to grow

He said,”Why are you asking for what you already know

Don’t you know how amazing you are?


There is just one creator and he knows what to do

Listen to my words, girl, and know that they’re true

He made the grass green and he made the sky blue.

There’s some things you must do for yourself.


This clay is soft but given the time

I can work with it slowly with these old hands of mine

And I can make it a vase or a jug for my wine

But you see girl it’s all up to me.


You’ve been given this life and it’s already amazing

You can study your books or spend it star gazing

You can go out on the road and spend it hell razing

But you see girl, it's all up to you


But I’ll tell you right now, girl there are people backstage

Who see your empty canvas. They see your blank page

And they come out here with paint...and mud..and buckets of rage

And they’ll tell what THEY think you are


They’ll push you and mold you like the clay on this wheel

 And they won’t care a jot about how you might feel

I promise you girl it’s your soul that they steal

But you won’t let them have it, will you?


You better define yourself before someone else does

They follow you around and start flappin’ their jaws

But you don’t have to listen to them girl, because

The creator left it all up to you.


Don’t go around blaming your mommy or dad

Your sister who’s prettier or your brother the grad

‘Cause they had all same choices you know that you had

It’s your life, girl, not anyone else’s.”


And she looked down inside, deeper than she could remember

Down where the fire had grown cold as December

And she saw the small spark, a dim glowing ember

And she quietly gave it a blow


And that one tiny coal it started to glow

And it made a small flame that started to grow

And then a bonfire and burning volcano

And she knew it was just getting started


It was a note, then a song, then full symphony

Backed up by storm on the crashing blue sea

She kept it all in her heart right where it should be

And she turned to the old man and said,


“I am a dancer and poet or great engineer

I can build you a building or quote you Shakespeare

And I have NO time for those who would fill me with fear

I know now it’s all up to me.


And I’m not mug or a bowl on your wheel

I’m am the wheel itself and I know what I feel

I’m creating myself and now here’s the deal

I’m ready to define myself

PrintView Printer Friendly Version

EmailEmail Article to Friend

References (1)

References allow you to track sources for this article, as well as articles that were written in response to this article.

Reader Comments (1)

Wow, that's romantic. Great story.

PostPost a New Comment

Enter your information below to add a new comment.

My response is on my own website »
Author Email (optional):
Author URL (optional):
Some HTML allowed: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <code> <em> <i> <strike> <strong>
« FREE CONE DAY | Main | Duck Dynasty has been renewed! »