The Potters Wheel Poem by Tafadzwa Mhondiwa Mugari

Marred, in the hands of the potter lay
The dull ungainly lump of clay;
Failure evident everywhere;
Self efforts ending in despair.

But the potter begins with vision clear
To fashion a vessel ever more dear;
As He kneads and turns, shapes and molds,
Keeping it gently under His control;


The vessel evolves full of grace,
But still no beauty on its face
As it spins on the wheel and takes on form
Through His loving touch is pressure born.


When the Master Potter can look with pride,
And with the form be satisfied,
He begins His work with color and glaze
To finish each vessel in unique ways.


With individual beauty and appeal
Each comes forth from the Master's wheel:
With a special touch He leaves His mark,
Perfected in love from the Father's heart.


Conformed to the image of Jesus the Son
Presented faultless befor His throne
The Potter looks and is satisfied
With His ownly begotten and perfected bride.