Pot Of Water

Pot Of Water
© Surazeus
2025 01 23

Face down in dirt of abject verity, 
Geb asks the cold lake rock how to make fire, 
till the hare of loneliness sniffs his nose, 
so he touches soft tip of the wheat shoot, 
and remembers spilling grains in this spot, 
so he sits up and sees wheat all around. 

Arranging stones in circle on the shore, 
Geb explains his reasoning to the hare. 
"Last time I sparked fire by clashing two stones 
those hot flames escaped control of my hands, 
but I noticed that stones limit their scope, 
so the stone circle may contain its force." 

Tending flames that crackle in evening dusk, 
Geb savors thick scent of water and mud, 
then glances up at sudden flash of light 
when crescent moon emerges from the sea, 
and floats on waves with shimmer of delight 
before ascending to the starry sky. 

Drawn by sweet scent of flowers in her hair, 
Geb watches Nut with curious intent 
as she molds thick red clay to imitate 
shape of the turtle shell that she once used 
to carry water from the sparkling stream, 
but now leaks because of some tiny cracks. 

Setting shell-shaped clay pot beside hot fire, 
Nut slowly turns it till it hardens dry, 
covers coals with rocks that glow red with heat, 
places pot hollow downward on hot rocks, 
then stacks firewood around it pointing up, 
which erupts in flames to bake the pot hard. 

After scraping ash and dust off her pot, 
Nut grins and places it flat on her head 
then walks down to the clear blue sparkling stream 
and fills it full with water to its brim, 
then, bearing it carefully on her head, 
she brings it back to their small four-pole hut. 

Setting pot of water on large flat stone 
on ring of stones above the crackling flames, 
Nut waits till water boils with bubbling pops, 
then fills it with fresh vegetables and herbs, 
topping it with yolk from six cracked egg shells, 
and hums will stirring hot stew for their meal. 

Peeling skin off the hare he cuts with blade 
of sharpened stone, Geb drops chunks in the stew, 
and smiles when they take turns lifting the pot 
to drink sweet memories of the fertile Earth, 
soft meat warming their hearts as cold rain falls, 
splattering on leaf roof that shelters their souls.