Kintsugi of the Soul

In the quiet of a potter’s room,

Where broken shards lie in gloom,

A master works with hands so wise,

To mend what once met its demise.

Kintsugi, the art of golden seams,

Where broken pieces find new dreams,

Lacquer mixed with powdered gold,

Mends the cracks, makes stories told.

A vessel once shattered, now made whole,

The fractures filled with lines of gold.

The scars are not hidden, but shown with pride,

A testament to what has been survived.

So too the soul that’s been through pain,

Bears the marks of loss and strain.

Trauma breaks us, makes us fall,

Yet within us lies the strength to recall.

The cracks and breaks are part of us,

A history written in lines of trust.

To heal is not to make it disappear,

But to fill the gaps with what makes us dear.

Golden lines where once were wounds,

A symbol of the strength that looms.

The beauty lies not in what was whole,

But in the mending of a broken soul.

We are all like kintsugi, in a way,

With golden scars that never fade away.

The broken parts are part of our story,

A testament to our journey and glory.

Healing is a journey, a work of art,

Where broken hearts can make a new start.

With every crack is filled with love and light,

We become more beautiful in the night.

So let us embrace our golden seams,

The mended parts where once were dreams.

For in the art of kintsugi, we find,

The beauty of a soul that’s been refined.