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The Broken Place

These days. I am no longer haunted half as much by the broken places in my life. Riffs and shifts. Fields planted with promise. Not a bloom in sight. U-turns, side streets, back alleys of decisions that in hindsight- well - we all have those. And those scars that are complete, a thing into themselves. Like a new sea, an old moon, changed the landscape of me. I contemplate Kintsugi, the Japenese art of repairing broken pottery with gold. Of something being more beautiful in the broken place. Made stronger in the broken place. Being more honest in the broken place. And this is so. It took a minute to get there. Then it took a minute more. And knowing now with a calm certainty it is this space where the light spills out.

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