Sunday, January 29, 2012

"His creation creates and He watches..."


She slaps a mound of gray-brown clay

onto the wheel and squeezes

cool muddy water over it

from a soft silk sponge—

kicks the concrete foot-wheel

to get it started. Kicks again, again

building momentum,

setting the top wheel turning

faster, faster.

She bears down and down

with practiced pressure

feeling the fine grit grog

feeling the cool wet earth

oozing, oozing

through her slender fingers.

Kicking, kicking, turning, turning

pressing, pressing. She feels

the resistant clay complying—

moving triumphantly

toward center.

At the precise moment of true center

the potter, synchronous

with her medium, pushes

her thumbs into the mound

and opens this extension of her being.

She deftly draws up its sides

into smooth, graceful contours

banded with concentric rings

imprinted by her fingertips—

Kicking, kicking, turning, turning

forming, forming. Vessel

revolving, evolving

sleek and symmetrical.

The potter draws in the neck

angles the rim with a metal rib

and softens it with her fingers.

She stops kicking.

The wheel’s RPMs gradually diminish.

With a wire, she cuts her creation

from the wheel and lifts it

onto a plaster bat to dry.

Birthing complete, she rests—

Finishing work begins tomorrow

All her days

keen, unseen hands

have been bearing down upon the potter—

centering, turning, opening

smoothing, shaping, drawing her upward

drawing her deftly

into unimagined forms.

He beholds what she is becoming;

He sees that it is good.

Cutting his vessel free, He rests.

His creation creates

and He watches—

She turns her vessel upside down

upon the wheel and

confidently trims the base

She places it in a kiln

where, by fire

it slowly develops fragile strength.

She glazes it richly and fires it again.

It emerges—

Beautiful. Worthy. Full of grace.

A vessel of honor for His use.

Maude Carolan Pych

For years I had an old manual kick wheel and a kiln in my basement. I enjoyed creating beautiful clay vessels. The Lord is the Master Potter. He created me. I am one of His earthen vessels. It is my heart's desire to always be a vessel of honor for His use.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

WOW! "The Harbinger" is already #23 on the NY Times Best Seller List!!!

Congratulations to my pastor, the author, Jonathan Cahn. To order his book, go to:

...and now, I'd like to share one of my poems with you:


We gather for Lauds

in the old convent chapel

across from the Episcopalian

retreat house in Mendham

as much to worship

as observe

nuns singing

in plainsong

from the Psalter

In the midst

of their soft

melodic chants

Petie pads in

on all fours

black and white

as their habits—

tail wagging

tags jingling

claws clicking

like cleats

against red brick

Petie traipses

from sister to sister

including the elderly one

hunched over

in her wheelchair

From each

he receives pats

or nuzzles

or a scratch

behind his ears

then he wanders

up front

by the altar

lays bare belly

against cool brick

and naps

Maude Carolan

This was written several years ago at an intensive poetry retreat weekend in Mendham, New Jersey.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

"The Harbinger" by Jonathan Cahn

Greetings Visitor…

Today, before I present a new poem to you, I would like to tell you about an important book my pastor has written that is getting a lot of attention. The book is The Harbinger, by Jonathan Cahn.

Jonathan is pastor/rabbi of Beth Israel Messianic Center/The Jerusalem Center, Wayne, New Jersey, perhaps the largest Messianic congregation in the world. I have sat under his teaching for twenty-five years and can attest to his character. An excellent teacher, Jonathan is also a living example of what he preaches, and his messages are known for their prophetic significance as well as their revelations of deep mysteries of God’s Word.

My husband and I have been passing the book back and forth, captivated by the unfolding of mysteries revealed in a verse found in the Book of Isaiah that points to 9/11, the collapse of the global economy and America’s future. In my opinion, next to The Bible, The Harbinger is definitely the most important book to read today. It’s hard to put down, and I concur with what it says on the back cover, “Though it sounds like the plot of a Hollywood thriller—it’s real.”

We believe this book is so important and timely we have purchased several copies to give to family and friends. Check it out at

...and now, a poem:


John 18:38

I first learned

the importance of truth

at my mother’s knee

My children

learned it at mine

Life has taught me

truth is truth, even

if no one believes it

if no one wants to believe it

if every man is a liar

What’s true is true, even

if millions is spent

to disprove it

if it’s argued against

lobbied against

debated against

railed against

voted against

legislated against

Truth Is


even if it’s watered down

to make it acceptable

skirted around

to soften its appeal                         

lubed with oil

so it goes down

nice and easy

sugar coated

to make it palatable

even if it looks

soooo, soooo good

Truth is Truth

whether it’s popular

or unpopular


in the face

of persecution

Pilate asked,

What is truth?

The Psalmist wrote,

The sum of God’s word

is truth

Jesus said,

I Am the Truth

He also said,

Everyone on the side

of truth

listens to Me

I believe the supreme

Truth is a Man

and His unchanging Word

…even though           

He be crucified


Salvation Truth

Resurrection Truth                                                                                             

Living Truth


I can stand up for

Maude Carolan Pych

Sunday, January 1, 2012

"The Three Kings" by Longfellow


Cosmic wonders, whats and whys

whirl in the East

as a singular mysterious luminary

beckons in the heavens

Is it brighter than the other stars?

Does it pulsate? Does it bounce?

Does it shoot across the sky

like a flame-tailed comet?

Does its lustrous splendor

rival the glow of the moon?

Gentile magi who study stars and Scripture

see it and curiously mount their camels

to follow it across the desert. But, why?

They say they are seeking

the King of the Jews. Why would they?

They say they want to worship Him

Why Him?

What do they know that the High Priest

the Pharisees, Sadducees

and all the Jews of Jerusalem

who are awaiting the coming of Messiah

do not comprehend?

King Herod summons them, diabolically

Feigns sincere interest in their mission

urges them to return with details

so he, too, may worship the King

A sinister plot forms in his evil mind

for even he knows…

there is something about that star…

Continuing on

the irresistible starlight shines ahead

until it shimmers above a humble house

in the village of Bethlehem

It stops, still…absolutely still

then the magi realize they are at

destiny's door

They knock

and are welcomed, when


their eyes behold

a Boy Child

and their hearts leap!!!

and whether it makes sense or not

(whether any of this makes sense or not)

the magi, in rich array

fall prostrate

on the earthen floor

and fill the little house

with Hallelujahs!!!

They draw from their saddlebags, treasures…

          Gold…for surely this little family can use it

          Myrrh…fragrant foreshadow of suffering

          Frankincense…for a sensing in the depths

          of their God-given wisdom

          of a significant anointing

          somewhere in time

Mission complete

the gift bearers mount their camels

and still attentive to God's spirit

(this time in a dream)

do not return to Herod

The magi…

diligent seekers who found


infinitely more valuable

than the precious gifts they bore

Maude Carolan Pych

This poem is included in From My Heart to Yours at Christmas...Cookies & Poems. Ordering information is given at the end of the blog.