Kentia palms catch a breeze

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.