We make these perfect objects

Precious works of art

That we treasure so much

We lock them away in the dark

Punishing their very beauty

With our fear

Seeking stasis and permanence

Forgetting to enjoy each moment

Mistrusting the inspiration that led to their creation


We build our perfect lives

Living up to expectations and borrowed dreams

Until the facade crumbles

Under the tension

Shattering illusions and exposing faultlines

So unseen


The broken chards of my life

Are soldered together with golden moments

When hands reach out to pull me up

When smiles come my way

Held together with hugs and kisses

Melted in the passion of love’s endurance


I am repaired

Not restored to a Platonic ideal of perfection

But celebrating my flaws by illuminating the cracks

Letting the light shine through them

To sparkle in your eyes

Through the beauty of reflection


David Trudel     © 2013




Filed under Poetry

7 responses to “Repaired

  1. Oh, look what you did. Love how you took the same process and made it so very much yours. Beautiful, David,

  2. Thank you both. Here is the link to Susan’s poem, which was inspired by the same image that inspired this poem.

  3. sue

    an inspiration 🙂

  4. Linda

    I ran across your beautiful poem while searching for information re kintsukuroi. May I post it on my FB page? I’ll understand if you’d rather I not. If you do agree to permit me to do this, may I acknowledge you by name?

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