Wabi Sabi

He who visited the land of perfection,
Couldn’t witness the beauty of correction.
Has nothing to talk about its history,
Coz it takes cracks to seek & unwrap the mystery.

He who shares bonds with people,
Fears from flaws, fragile & feeble.
Rather rejecting, rectify right there,
Builds a broken vase, and a kintsugi to stare.

He who looks daily in the mirror,
Touches his scar & feels the vigour
Accepts them as treasures of life,
Continues to strive with that worn-torn knife.

For perfection is short-lived & temporary,
Lies within the grip of time's misery.
Finally, it’s the Fukanzen nature, which leaves no space
To unclasp the grip, but to start embracing the trace.