Kintsugi Morning

The bowl is still cracked,
but gold glints
in early light.

Steam from the tea
rises—
a soft unravelling.

Outside, the plum tree
shakes off
a single blossom.

You are nowhere,
and still
I pour two cups.

Ryan Stone


Comments

15 responses to “Kintsugi Morning”

  1. Beautifully penned Ryan. Love the imagery. Happy Poetry day My Friend..

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks so much for reading. Really appreciate the nice comment, too 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Pleasure My Friend. Stay Smiling. Happy Blogging.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Right back at you 🙂

        Like

  2. “There’s a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in” … Leonard Cohen
    “Invincible Pieces”
    I, a broken ginger jar
    I, have been damaged and mismanaged
    I, am repairable and valuable … Ivor

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    1. Exactly that. Thanks, mate 🙂

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      1. You’re most welcome, Ryan

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      2. Hope you’re well, my friend. Mornings are getting cold!

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Yep … too cold for this old poet … 🤗

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Beautiful words about holding space.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Violet 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Alarie Tennille Avatar
    Alarie Tennille

    How beautiful. I’m familiar with bowls being repaired with molten gold, so I was picturing the scene of your poem before I scrolled far enough down to see it.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. What a wonderful way to step into a poem, Alarie. I hope I did your mind-image justice. Lovely to hear from you, I hope you’re well 🙂

      Like

      1. Alarie Tennille Avatar
        Alarie Tennille

        Your poetry always lifts my spirits, Ryan. Wish I could be as prolific.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Stick with quality over quantity, Alarie 🙂

        Like

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