A Hundred-Year Reunion

A Hundred-Year Reunion

I received a porcelain bowl that seems to be at least a hundred years old. I couldn’t use it for soup on the dinner table, so I gently touched the rim with my lips.

I gained the bowl’s rim, and the bowl gained me.

A potter a hundred years ago evenly kneaded the clay and fired it into a bowl. He spun it on the wheel with all his soul and fired it with oak wood at 1,300 degrees for several days, then let it cool. This bowl, imbued with the potter’s spirit, met the poet’s lips after a hundred years, and its breath came back to life.

pottery, tradition, connection