Each day began his long journey
From masters house to the stream
Two clay pots hung on either side
On shoulders the pole lay between.

One of the pots were perfect and
Always delivered its portion in full
So proud of its accomplishments
Feeling so useful, its weight pulled.


The other pot held imperfections
It wore a large crack on its side
T'was never to accomplish in full
Only half the water could provide.

Ashamed of its imperfection and
Not able, for which it was made
Miserable at being able only half
Feeling the water bearer betrayed.


After many years of perceived failure
It spoke to the water bearer one day.
"I'm so ashamed of such great failure
Only able half, for which I was made."

Asked the Water Bearer; why ashamed?
"We make our journey, and along the hill
Each day from my side I leak from flaws
Yet each day you continue, using me still."

The mans heart filled with such sorrow
And in his compassion to the pot he said
"Today returning to the Master's house
Notice beautiful flowers for miles spread."

Their journey the cracked pot took notice
The beautiful flowers all along the hill
And for a brief moment it cheered it some,
Yet saddened upon arriving again half filled.

The Bearer spoke to the pot once again;
"Did you notice the beauty only on your side?
Without you being just the way you are
Flowers to the master I never could provide."

Years ago I planted flower seeds knowing
That not one single drop was to waste
As you've watered many years the flowers,
And their beauty the lords house they grace.

Please Do Not
Use My Poems Without
Written Permission
~Kathy Loun Stilley~
©2009