By Maya Green
My friend have you not noticed,
That out of the broken egg,
Emerges the bird,
And with a beautiful song?
Or out of the wounds
Of the grafting,
Two plants become stronger;
And are thriving together, as one?
Through the art of kintsugi
A broken plate becomes whole,
A sure and certain safekeep;
And a sure thing of beauty.
So similarly, sans any spin
It’s only in the shattering of the ego,
That the light locked within,
Will be able to shine through.
So don’t be scared,
Of being made a little broken;
Don’t be shy of all the scars,
Or of even, the debasement.
For being broken, and humbled,
Are precursors to victory;
They are your medals of honour,
From and for, a hard fought war.
‘To drink, a bird needs to break the water.’
Photo by Sofiyan Yahya
