A Cup Half Filled

     A stranger comes across a village in his travels. They are a poor people and yet he has seen samples of their exquisite pottery scattered in rich houses throughout his wanderings.In return for food and shelter the traveler teaches the inhabitant of  the village to harness their Qi in the brightly coloured pots they are renowned for. 
     They train in secret. In the backs of drafty workshops, in stolen moments, in small groups or alone in the dead of night. Minds stilled, fluid motions gather the power in like liquid to fill their bowls where it burns like fire once captured, momentarily held, but never truly contained. The stranger teaches them to use the power as a weapon. Tea cups fill with sorrow and loss, bowls fill with anger. The stranger teaches them to make bombs from the substance of their souls. With such knowledge comes the power to rise up in resistance to the offhanded cruelty they have always endured as a people. The stranger discovers in himself the wisdom to avoid the violence he would have once advocated.
     Happy children in a thriving village fill small bowls with the bright rainbows of soul colour, and then make them sing.