Kintsugi
The vessel of clay falls from the table,
an angel's fall from grace.
Shattering
against the cold stone floor,
thousands of shards
now take its place.
That moment,
singular impact- agonizing,
renders the object
transformed, utterly:
once whole, now broken apart;
merely a pile of shards
left behind-
sharp, jagged
broken, raw.
Such a transformative event
-jarring,
painful-
all surrounding
take note.
Feeble attempts begin
to tidy, to fix --
inevitably.
Meeting these with pain,
even blood,
scattered shards
are left behind.
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Potter returning,
with heartache unbearable
at this sight: a beloved vessel smashed.
Potter desiring restoration
of past wholeness,
ignores pain, blood;
gingerly collecting shards,
painstakingly molding splintered pieces,
at long last,
those shards of the beloved are reunited
into the wondrous form of a whole
once more.
This beloved is cracked,
but not unlovely.
This beloved is cracked,
but not useless.
This beloved is cracked,
but not irrevocably damaged.
This beloved vessel is:
beautiful, unique, strong;
all because it is cracked.
#poetry #personal #metaphor #hope #perspective #identity
{ read about the history & philosophy of kintsugi here: