cracks where the light comes through

cracks where the light comes through

his heart formed
not quite right
but when I queried
a sage, her words—
his heart couldn’t
contain the radiance
it needed cracks where
the light comes through

his heart is kintsugi
broken and skillfully
repaired—patched here
sewn there by a humble
and adept healer
a rare find—
but what have we done
how will the light get out?

—thank you to Susan Adelle for the title phrase

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
Disclaimer: These are drafts—not final versions.

this, too

this, too

note to self

so tired.
tired of infighting and
hatred. tired of lies.
what is this human
aversion to truth?
we’ve slipped
off the diving board.
let’s cherish the bowl
of our fragile home.
wholeness is no longer
possible in the manifested
world. Kintsugi calls.
we can mend ourselves
with rivulets of goodness.
it takes more juice
to frown than smile.
choose gold.
gold lacquer and rice flour,
a delicate harmony.

sit in silence.
parse what is.
right now. all of it. the lush
air at sunup’s first blush.
hawk nabs gopher.
parents beg.
even DNA required.
weeping, they
comfort each other.
this, too.
with a slender brush,
smooth liquid gold
into the seams.

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—they may never turn into anything more or they might flower.