Joseph

Cold under palm and fingers
The clay whirls moist on the wheel,
Then soars to form,
Mastered into life
By the potter's pressuring love,
Tender, responsive.

Primordial beauty, softly shining
Reserved, intact, sufficient.

Then robed in magic dust,
It incandesces in the long embrace
Of fiercer, white-hot love,
Emerging a much changed thing,
Deep-crystalled with rock-smooth skin,
Tender in hue, chaste, cool.

Ageless beauty, softly shining
Reserved, intact, sufficient.

--Joseph Grebanier, Feb 23, 1912 – Aug 14, 1976

My father was a high school English teacher. I knew that he had written short stories and plays when he was a young man, but I was surprised to find this poem of his when I was cleaning out my parents’ home last summer. Although he was a highly literate man, I had thought he had left poetry to be my mother’s domain.

He started making pottery when he was about 40, and it rapidly became a passion. No more time for writing stories and plays—spare time was taken up with throwing pots and devising experiments to recreate ancient Chinese stoneware glazes. I think his passion for pottery must have forced this poem out of him.

The picture above illustrates the first half of his poem: the potter with an unfired pot, primordial beauty.

And this shows examples of the ageless beauty resulting from interaction of magic dust and fierce heat.

Dear Dad,
So strange to write those words, since you are gone for so many years now. You are still a presence in my life, though I do not think of you as living in some heavenly place. You did not believe in such things—did not want to believe in such things—thought that much of life’s value came from its transitory nature. Life is short—time to be making the most of it! And you certainly did.
Neither do I believe in life eternal. But who can really know about such things? What I know is that I carry my memories of you with me, that over the years these have been a blessing for me, and that you still live in my heart.
Happy birthday to you, wherever you may be!
Your loving daughter,
Alice
Feb 23, 2006