but childlike enthusiasm,
timeless concentration
and pure devotion that feed this clay to life for me.
Knowing this as my hands work slower than my desire to create,
feeling this on frigid winter mornings when clay spirits are
cold and so am I.
Laughing in J.C. Penney's when I notice there is still clay
stubbornly stuck under my fingernails,
and I pass a free manicure display.
Dreaming up new shapes and stories for brown
earth and me, as I secretly call myself
Mud Woman.
Indulging in limitless, creative possibilities.
How lucky I am to know this clay.
Nora Naranjo-Morse
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