Kentia palms catch a breeze
And sway gently in their rows;
This verdant sanctuary
Comforts me like the psalms.
I amble slowly between them –
My head tapped by the fronds.
I feel the warmth of the sun;
The fresh air fills my lungs.
A kintsugi pot rests on pebbles –
Beautiful but defiant.
Gold sealed up the fissures –
Reminding me of who I am.
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