Clay,  poem

A beginning…


The earth was dry. It had been for many years.

The people walked on its dry cracked surface,

it held firm beneath their feet.

Nobody knew what it looked like wet.

Nobody knew how it felt to squish the mud between their toes.

Nobody knew what life could grow from this dry mud.

Nobody knew how it could move, how it could change.

They only knew how it could break.

Now the rains have come….

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