Meraki

Lyrics

[Intro]
Just the hum. And the smell of wet earth. Four in the morning.

[Verse 1]
Hands, you remember this. The bag of grog from Limoges, dragged all the way here. Cold and dense as a buried secret. You wake it up. A little water, a little pressure from the heel of the palm. There, under my thumb, is the ghost of a thousand other pots. My skin is in the slurry, the ridges of my knuckles flaking off. A fine dust of me, mixing with the clay.

[Chorus]
This is the payment. This is the trade. Not with money, but with time. With cells. With a quiet breath held too long. They call it Meraki. I call it leaving a fingerprint on the inside. A secret signature no one will ever see. But it's there. I am there.

[Verse 2]
The wheel finds its rhythm, a low prayer. The world shrinks to this spinning center, this single wet possibility. My body forgets itself. The wooden rib, worn smooth by my father's father, presses against the rising wall. It has its own memory. It knows the curve better than I do. A little more water. A slight tremble in the lip. That's the worry. The merak. The price of caring if it collapses.

[Chorus]
This is the payment. This is the trade. Not with money, but with time. With cells. With a quiet breath held too long. They call it Meraki. I call it leaving a fingerprint on the inside. A secret signature no one will ever see. But it's there. I am there.

[Bridge]
And when I stop... the wheel sighs. The pot stands. Wet and fragile on its pedestal of clay. It holds the argument from yesterday afternoon, the one that ended in silence. It holds the sound of the rain that hasn't started yet. It holds the heat from my palms, a warmth that is slowly fading. It's not a bowl. Not yet. It's a memory of Tuesday, waiting for the fire to make it permanent.

[Outro]
The wire sings its one high note as it cuts the base. Free. I lift you with two hands. You are heavier than just clay. You carry me with you now. Go on. Be useful. Be beautiful. Be broken someday.