It’s said that when a pot has been broken the spirit is free. - TopicsExpress



          

It’s said that when a pot has been broken the spirit is free. Some national treasure devised this nonsense while meditating too long at the foot of a mountain; his pots cost thousands and are locked in vaults to keep them safe and whole. My ‘collection’ is in full use to be savored and are not locked away. From time to time, a pot is dropped and lost and returned to the ages, as are the friend who made them one by one. In my hands I cradle the pieces of a bowl made by a friend. We were intimate long ago with the ancient art of clay and one another. I look again for her face as I discern the pieces of this broken pot. As if to paste the past in place, but swirling with the memory comes the pain we brought to ourselves and to our other loves especially to children so beautiful they broke our hearts. We were young as well and somehow oblivious of others around us, except for an Iranian girl pregnant and unveiled, whose dark beauty possessed a magic that opened up an ancient history . We set out in quest to unveil the ancient luster of Persia more beautiful than freshly opened abalone; thick and succulent below the dark delicate script deep in glaze and kissed by the acid earth in the craze of it It was their form we longed for as we did the sweet breathe we shared in our embrace and their stroke we longed for by a brush so confident it did itself. Our pots fell short as we held them up to the masters. The guilt of failure haunted and paralyzed us as we fell, but it was her pot that came the closest; It brought our disbelief when it came from the fire; molten and whole washed and scrubbed and there it was so fragile slipping from my fingers and smashed in pieces on this cold floor. and she is dead how facile she was and beautiful. In spring the first yellow dandelions explode from underground but quicken to a white and dreary progeny spread with a slight breeze to a scape of stubble in the swiftness of an hour, their spirits free it is said. I disagree, And grieve alone, I feel a dark despair.
Posted on: Tue, 15 Jul 2014 14:22:28 +0000

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