The Ancient Art Of Kintsugi

To bring the Autumn Issue to a close, I wanted to share with you a poem from my pamphlet We Wear The Crown (Hedgehog Poetry Press, 2022). This poem is about acceptance, redefining yourself after trauma, being kind to yourself. Thank you again to all of our readers and our poets who have been with me on The Rainbow Poems journey so far.
Your grateful editor, Lucy x

The Ancient Art Of Kintsugi

First, you must collect the fragments.
Proceed with care. They will be fragile.

Don’t say it’s not fair, don’t ask why –
why it was your pot that smashed.
Focus on each shattered piece. Pray
that it will reveal its true shape, role,
destiny. Look for clues, pray again.

Tell your fragments to speak up, speak
louder than before. They are beautiful.
Say this often. Think it even when you
are somewhere else. They may begin
to hear this message and absorb it.

Though you may not believe it, this helps
cracks to heal until they are ghost-lines.
Belief will become glue that holds broken
parts together. Your words, given freely,
if you believe in them, are melted gold.

Next, mix your gold with urushi resin.
Coat the edges of each piece – be careful
not to apply it to skin. It’s deadly if done
incorrectly. Place each shard, each fragment
next to another. Do they suggest a form?

Now, be prepared for your pot to tell you
that it has re-evaluated. That it is a pot
no longer. That it wants more for itself
and you: to be a lamp, a swan, a flute.
Maybe it only knows that it must hold –

hold together, hold on to itself, hold on
so as not to blow apart. Listen. Believe.

You should now be ready to try the pieces
and see if they fit. If so, great. If not, stick
together what you can. Fill any larger gaps
with more molten gold. This is makienaoshi,
a process developed for difficult cases.

Now, assess your pot, or lamp, or swan.
Hopefully, if you’ve followed each step
precisely and neglected none, you will find
your object transformed – imperfect still,
but almost resembling a whole.