By ANA MURIEL R. VERON
EDITOR’S NOTE: This piece is one of the works in a seven-part series in line with the Dapitan 2020 theme Ina. All works that are part of the series are written by the Flame’s Letters staffers.
When she chose the clay,
She perhaps desired the Kaolinite
That would have resulted in pristine, white porcelain.
She knew this medium would limit her
And her creation
But it does not bother her.
She would be content in the results
Of her skill and the love
She would instill in her craft.
To create was a heavy task to take on—
She would labor
For the rest of her life.
She worked alone.
In an orderly workshop
With occasional visitors and seldom assistance.
She did not need it.
She molded the heart and mind
With her inexperienced yet careful hands.
The muddled dirt stuck under her fingernails
And staining her skin.
Sweat running down her forehead.
Though she wishes for it to be beautiful,
This is not its purpose.
She wanted the best parts of herself showing
In every bend and curve
Passion and honor and kindness.
So that everyone might see that this
Is what she had made.
She left it to dry in the shade
But it didn’t. Not completely.
There were too many variables:
The humidity
The impurities in the clay
Certain parts were too thick.
She would have waited longer
But she could not.
Her aching hands were too tired,
Too worn
And it was time for firing.
She places it in the kiln.
She is impatient but she hopes for the best
As she closes the door on her work,
Leaving it in the burning heat.
So she waits
And she can only pray
That it does not crack. F
