Metal crumbles away. Wood as well. Flesh disappears first of all. Ceramic lasts aeons. That is the reason why we send it into the Universe. Because ceramic withstands the highest temperatures. We use it in spaceships and dentures. Thousand years from now, it will laugh at us out of the polished skulls.
Yet, someday, someone might make a cup from my remains, drink coffee from it, foretell the future from the sediment, and wonder about the woman’s image persistently appearing at the bottom of the cup. These are the mysteries that I am talking about. When one takes a ball of clay into the hands, one takes the planet’s past and future into them. Because clay will remain. It cannot decay. It is the last sediment of the planet. A huge reservoir of water for thirsty times. The basis for all samsaras. The patch of ground for illusions.