Wabi Sabi Poems - Poems about Wabi Sabi

“Your daughter stares,” my mother whispered; as she lay naked on the bed. A smile of pleasure crossed her face while the nurse gently caressed her frail body with a soft, warm sponge. ...

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Looking in the mirror, Looking at yourself, sighing, Say “she’s more broken Than the others you see walking down the street.” Maybe you won’t say so When you see their faces Washed out and pale, Behind the painted concrete Cracks do start to break. So don’t stuff your thin arms, Flaunt that well in your cheek, Be proud of the black marks, By the edge of...

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In this world, we are all transients, traveling to the beat of a mortal drum, on a latent path that only the souls can see, waiting for that moment when we give back our borrowed light. Like a star, we can shed our light in the night and lose our radiance in the day, to depend on the sun,...

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Kato was a mutt-product:- breeding run amok No purity meant the pound of death-induction Only his adoption saved him from that inferno turning life into moments full of simply-perfect: Each summer, the sun stroke a furry black hue Elevating it with a sheer of burgundy elegance Pauses were paws-aplenty with a trot and stop Leaves all fallen he sniffed, callings of...

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Imperfection becomes, the beautiful face of impermanence. One dying flower, enlightens a whole field of blooms. Change gives meaning, to all that is born to flow. The river does not ask which way? The rocky riverbank crumbles, because the water declares the unreality of all resistance. In an imperfect world, perfection is a form of death, while death is beyond form, and so, a chip or crack in a...

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We wander through so many gardens, doting robins, ignoring the crows. Our personal oasis is an unfinished poem. Plastic flowers may last longer, but their dead scent, cannot compare to freesia and frangipani. In fading grey sunset, I crumble, crouching in musk air. An arch frame with withered wood skin and paint peeling in need of black dye, but still Shalimar honeysuckle wraps like...

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imagination contaminated not seeing my fractured being ~ as whole shredded edges wisp in the breeze to stare blankly across an empty space acceptance abandoned self~ not exhibited a different -...

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Wabi-Sabi 12-21-23 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Wabi-Sabi Empty the mirage of perfection Whose shadow wears scars Of perpetual broken rainbows – Cracked rose petals – Gilded edges joined by hibernation and spring. A pilgrimage into amnesia Timeworn victories fade into badges lost to time Moonlight swallows the waning heart of morning Sunlight gobbles up unfinished faces of the moon Storms inhale fragments of sunbows. Out of exploding ephemeral...

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I can't imagine looking at my fractured self and feeling whole acceptance always felt impossible my whole self - not being for...

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For me you’re designed, mesmeric scarred moon, grace gleams in the convolute cradle of cyan night, slithers in the silken sky I create for you, a turquoise trail you trace in my heart incised. Thunder cloud surges from the edge of stained night, the debris of the splintered sky swathes me. You retreat in the glare of anguish...

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Nothing can dim the light that shines from within. ~Maya Angelou You are perfect in all of your imperfections. What imperfections? I ask. Exactly! He responds. it was not true love the only true love is God and Christ on the cross bearing the imperfections so light can shine out from me ...

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- poem taken for other purpose-...

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The beauty of the leaves embraced their difference As they shriveled ‘neath the sap drained Maple Celebrating their continuum in the soil A sadness tinged the sun’s smile The mindless flocks fled, as did my thoughts In search of kinder climes devoid of tears Guided through the present by the past Sifting through the distant clouds of when Gnarled trees contort ensnared in...

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When he went away, leaving her that day, She thought her heart would betray… The way it hurt, the way she wanted him to stay. When love meant to last all lifelong, like a song, Joyful and full, then lost in the dark, so wrong, Leaving her alone and afraid, after he’d strung her along. When doubts filled her up, after...

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youth, where imperfections trip upon each other and opportunistic peers joyfully celebrate the folly - glass tree houses be damned... and - a spun bottle breaks blood brotherhoods where fragile crevices expose truths and welcome untested kinships to fill the void. the leftover baggage - will it be burden or buoyant? like Scrooge's chains, worked upon - idyllic dreams ...

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