So this is love.
Wanting to be near it.
Shaking to touch,
To feel it against my skin.
I am in love with clay.
For Ceramics is the wood that fuels my fire.
I need it in my life.

Perhaps that is a void
One of many voids that cannot be filled by people
Where for art thou clay.
I miss thee so.
My heart yearns,
Calls out.
Can you hear me?

Return to me
Mother earth
Return to me

You goddess of dirt, mud, and all things kind
Come back to me.
The break has been painful, causing me to shrivel within
Splinters forming at the core of my being.
Water rushing in and freezing, expanding the cracks.
Without clay there.
How can I possibly mend the tear?

I need the sustenance for my soul
I am called to it.
It beckons to me.
And I am drawn to it
A slave really
Never in my life have I found a medium
That satisfies me the way clay has.
Can and Does.

Don’t leave me here
Alone to fend for myself in this dark world.
Can’t you hear me calling out?
The ghost of memories past call out your name
Your presence
Your spirit
Mother earth
Where have you gone
I miss you so
Return
Return
And never leave again