Roger Mather
Iowa City, IA, USA
Roger MatherIowa City, IA, USA |
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Roger Mather was born in London, England, and then lived in India and Germany. He returned to England for most of his schooling, graduating from Cambridge University. He obtained an advanced degree from MIT. His engineering and scientific career culminated in heading NASA's program to use nuclear energy for space travel. In 1973, he joined the faculty of the University of Iowa's School of Music to teach and research a lifelong love, the flute. This led to several books and numerous articles. He also taught public speaking at the college level. Retirement in 1996 allows time for writing poetry. |
The Path to PeaceThis Far Eastern tale is to us very relevant,Of three blind men who encountered an elephant. "It's a wall," one man cried, As he touched its tall side. "But it's a rope, without fail," Said the next, hands on tail. "Oh no, it's the trunk of a tree," On feeling a leg, said the last of the three. With these words, our story ends. It appears that the three men stayed friends. For this to happen, you can be quite sure Each of them had to get the whole picture. So when with a person you disagree, You may eye-to-eye yet readily see If you compare your perspectives --- And spare the invectives. |
An Ancient VaseAs I look on this ancient vase,Through its potter's eyes I start to gaze. Its molding in his hands I feel, And hear the whirring of his wheel. I ask, just why this shape and height? Why this color, to be honored by what light? As with a person, was it born for joy and beauty, Or to simply serve some daily duty? Who then bought it, and placed it where, To receive beloved or less anxious care? Where lived it through the storms of time, To stand before these awe-filled eyes of mine? Dwelled it in the palace of a line of kings For the pleasure that such beauty brings? Or was it a peasant family's cherished thing, To which through famine they'd still cling? How passed it from one household to another? The gift to a bride from her indulgent mother? Was it bought or bartered, or enough desired To be by theft or as a bribe acquired? Stood it empty on a decorative shelf Admired for its beauty, just by itself? Or was it filled with many a fragrant flower, To add the charm of nature to a lady's bower? Did it pass through life all on its own, Or become the much-prized cornerstone Of a group of pieces by that potter's hand Which stayed long together as a band? Where will it travel, and touch upon what shore? Until at last, in fragments on some cruel floor, Beyond man's and muse's power to restore, Its long life's ended, it soul has fled for evermore. |