Come one! Come all!

No matter the size or shape of your mortal frames

Bring your broken hearts

Bring your shattered dreams

Bring your cracked resolves

Bring every scrape from every escape

All the bumps from life’s knocks

Bring every bruise and scratch

Bring every fault line and blemish


To the Master potter

With the Midas touch

No matter the twisted bends

He has the ingenious mends

Don’t hide your chips

No need to cover up your scars

Bring the jumbled puzzle

He will make good the missing piece

Bring all your broken seams and flaws

Take your imperfect weight in gold


So hurry up!

Wait not!

Bring the darkness of centuries

Walkout into the light of infinity

Not good as new

But an even better vessel!

Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum_ As a philosophy, it treats breakage and repair as part





Waiting on a miracle

When you’re  back up against a wall

Attacked from all sides

And you’ve given it all you got

And you wanna give up

Don’t let go

Don’t back down


When push comes to shove

Make allowance for My miracle

You’re gonna make it

It’s gonna be okay


Dear soul

In my book

You’ve already won


Just breathe

Take a sigh of relief


Look up

Riseth up


Photo by Tommy Lisbin on Unsplash


Until tomorrow


Come dark

Time moves doubly slow

I fidget my watch

But the seconds go only click by click

On a wakeful guard

I pray for sleep to come quick

And protect me

From whom?

You ask

There is no one in the room

From myself

From revisiting platinum memories of love ‘n’ loss

Inked on my very soul

An inseparable intricate ‘n’ exquisite mix

Of simpler days

When everything was in the palm of my hands


Of complex truths

Bewildered at the twisted lines of fate


All-day long I carry an albatross around my neck

I never let it show

Oh! night

Be a darling

Come free me from its titanium grip

I wake up

With a stabbing pain in my chest

And I know

My dreams betrayeth me still


Photo by Ivan Oboleninov from Pexels

The river runs red

Use kid gloves

Touch gingerly

Leave no fingerprints

Be careful

Don’t cut yourself

These are no sunflowers or lilies

Let not the innocence ‘n’ beauty befool you

Buried beneath the rose bed

Is a bleeding heart

The river overfloweth red


You’re intrigued

And want to know the story


Listen carefully

But when we near the truth

‘N’ tears well up in your eyes

You must look away

‘Coz for the wounded

Even a teardrop would be deadly


Photo by Oleg Ivanov on Unsplash