On The Potter's wheel I sat, and felt His mighty touch; I heard my own voice asking Him, Why have You made me such?

Oh ~ take me quickly from your wheel, don't mold this vessel more; Have you not chiseled long enough, so much longer than before.

With every turning of your wheel, some part of me is changed; And somehow who I used to be, is now all rearranged.

I felt the wheel begin to slow, as it came to a halt; What were those last few drops that fell? ~ they had a taste of salt.

As He removed me from the wheel, I could not help but see; Those drops were falling from His eyes, and each one fell on me.

Why was The Potter crying so? What could have made Him cry? When I felt such a great relief, to be free ~ or so thought I.

Free from The Potter's wheel at last, Free from the chisel's pain; A vessel complete from The Potter's hand, The wheel would not turn me again.

How I did glisten, He must be proud, to have fashioned a vessel so rare; Surely I'd bring Him much honor, A treasure beyond all compare.

Such visions of grandeur filled me, as He placed me on the shelf; I barely noticed His tear-dimmed eyes, so busy with thoughts of myself.

Merchants were coming into the place, where we vessels were on display; Surely I'd be the first to go, Why ~ it had to be that way.

How eagerly I watched their faces, as they examined us all; Sure enough I was selected, Joy filled me as I recall.

How could I know what lay ahead, or what would be expected of me; That day I cried to the Potter, "From Your wheel please set me free".

I was traded and sold so many times, filled with every imaginable thing; Finally discarded as broken and useless, No honor to The Potter did I bring.

Marred on the outside, scarred from within, I thought of that day long before; when The Potter's wheel stopped turning, Would I feel His hands no more?

Then suddenly I felt myself lifted, from out of the refuse pile; By hands that were somehow familiar, Hands accustomed to handling the fragile.

It was The Potter who'd made me, How had He known I was here? With love and compassion He held me, As though I was somehow dear.

How did You find me? I questioned, And, why would You want me now? I have brought You no honor, It seems that I just don't know how.

You've always belonged to me, He said, For in you is part of me; Remember that day you felt my tears when you thought you should be free?

Those tears were shed because I knew, the suff'ring you would endure; because you're an incomplete vessel, Only molding will make you secure.

Though I wouldn't go against your will, I knew you'd be willing one day; to be the vessel I can use, Here, let me show you the way.

You're just the kind of vessel now, who will fit into my plan; One the world thinks is useless, for they simply don't understand.

I always take the foolish things, to confound the very wise; And the vessel thought to be weakest, I see through much different eyes.

Don't be afraid of my Potter's wheel, This time it won't seem too long; before you're that vessel you desired to be, useful, loving and strong.

Oh ~ how patient The Potter's hands, as he gently turns the wheel; And, strangely it's not so painful now, His chisel I hardly feel.