Storytellers Poetry Contest Winner: When Water Climbed a Mountain (1st Place)

by Jessie Flowers


THE STORY BEHIND THE POEM:

In late September 2024, Hurricane Helene’s sudden and unprecedented floodwaters ravaged the Appalachian Mountains. Whole towns, infrastructures, and many inhabitants were washed away in an instant. The River Arts District of Asheville, North Carolina, was one such location in the floodplain. As a vibrant creative home to a community of artists, its mountain streets were filled with diverse studios and galleries. The Village Potters Clay Center was a thriving flagship facility in the district, owned and operated by my parents and their team. Known for teaching and mentoring the next generation of potters, their influence was deep and broad. Unfortunately, that fateful September, the floodwaters of Helene filled the 14,000 square foot clay center. Climbing to over 26 feet, the current either washed away or ruined nearly everything inside. This poem is a tribute to the resilience of my parents, The Village Potters, and the greater whole of the artist community they represent. Telling their story of great loss and perseverance to rebuild in the face of tragedy is a beacon of hope. May that same hope pull our eyes upward and guide us, when facing seemingly insurmountable circumstances, to persevere and continue the climb.


WHEN WATER CLIMBED A MOUNTAIN

a tribute to the loss and rebirth of The Village Potters Clay Center (River Arts District, Asheville, NC) from Hurricane Helene’s devastating floodwaters in September 2024

The day water climbed a mountain, 

we hid what we could

and cried and wrung our hands.

We lied to ourselves 

that we were fine.

We had to survive,

                                 and we would.

Buildings became buoys,

as torrent and spate

tore at our hands 

with currents of downed trees,

dreams, neighbors, and 

homes turned heaps.

The day water climbed a mountain,

its sudden take was so great,

a fearsome wake 

left art barely beating,

like our hearts.

We had to survive, 

                                 and we did.

Wide-eyed, we watched

our weathered hands 

grip clay and

grip community

to re-find 

our center.

Today, hope climbs a mountain

higher than water now. 

Shoes, spike, and spade

grip new ground 

tighter now.

We have to survive,

                              and we are. 

Reclaiming soil, 

we build, shape, pull, and spin.  

Art becoming buoys, 

so the earth around us can feel safe 

to be

a child again— 

                         mud pies in our hands.

JESSIE FLOWERS

Jessie Flowers is a purveyor of life and language. She delights in the mundane miracles of each season, spying out the beauty that steadfastly surrounds us. Having previously served as a worship arts pastor for over a decade, she carries a deep love for people, creativity, and the Body of Christ. She currently resides in South Carolina with her husband and children.

You can follow more of her work at substack.com/@jessieflowers, as well as her forthcoming work in Vessels of Light.


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To the Mountains: A Letter from the Editor

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Storytellers Poetry Contest Winner: Behold! He Who Was, Long Before Us (2nd Place)