“Pottery”

A poem about Fukushima

I went to Fukushima last weekend. Friend of mine was organizing an event and I was invited. People there were so kind, the air was clean, and the food was delicious. I am so in love with this place. With gratitude to Fukushima, I wrote a poem.

Pottery

There were many horses there.

People were guided by horses, and a village was formed.

A kiln was built in the village.

People began baking pottery in the kiln.

The pottery is ready.

A bowl that fits comfortably in hands.

Coffee, juice, tea, or water.

You can pour anything into it.

But one day, the earth suddenly shook.

Houses were destroyed.

The sea broke open and large waves swallowed the village.

Swallowed houses and people.

Including the nuclear power plant.

Radiation posed a threat.

Those that survived had to flee the village.

They moved to another place.

People built new homes.

They didn’t give up.

They built a new kiln.

So that they can make pottery.

We don’t need to fear atomic energy.

Because it will never be able to stop time.

Coffee, juice, tea, or water.

You can pour anything into it.

New pottery has been made.

They made it with their own hands.

They gave it to me.

What will I pour into this?

It can be anything.