The Intimacy of Clay and Fire

She was in a state of constant chaos, it was her new normal. Restless, lost and her soul wandering to find answers.

She looked at a dimly lit earthen lamp at the crossing and found herself overtaken by a revelation so profound. There it lay – a tiny concave mass of wet clay, opening her bosom in entirety. The formless extract of vegetable oil found its home there and extended the warmth it received to a thin long strand of freshly combed cotton.

She often wondered loud at how seamlessly these varied elements in nature of which even she is a part of, merge fluidly and become one – offering a strong beacon of hope.

A testimony of how divergent energies fuse to create something so magical. Why then do we have these homogeneous clans of homo sapiens?

The white light cotton was now ready to take on her role as the connector. She drenched her skin, absorbing the oil and set her soul on fire. She was now a burning flame – so yellow and divine, spreading warmth and light to all those who touched her.

She stood there looking at the streets jostling with crackers, men and women talking their way out and let out a heavy sigh. She felt something stir within and let out a scream in her head, grabbing the attention of the masses. She wanted to show them this big miracle unfolding in the tiny earthen lamp.

A fusion of clay and fire, two varied energies making love. Did others see this? Or was it just her?

Maybe it was such a common sight that people had forgotten to look at this marvel – just like our eyes have stopped sparkling in wonder watching the mysteries of sunrises and sunsets. 

She bowed her head with gratitude and surrender and walked back into her abode to pick up her journal and write about this new insight she had an encounter with.

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