It was a small crack that ran
up the side of the cup. It no
longer held matter completely,
it was no longer perfect.

The beauty of the cup was not
tarnished though. No. The
treasure was transformed.
You understood.

The crack was there to let in
light, you said. To illumine
splendor deep inside. You
could see it.

In Japan they fill cracks with gold.
Once damage is done, history is
fashioned. Filled with tenderness
it becomes precious anew.

You fill my brokenness with Your
grace mending it with Your light.
More beautiful than before I am
made whole once again.
.

.

.

Author’s Notes:

I wrote this last evening and didn’t get it posted. I was off to a Celtic retreat today. Sometimes Spirit shows up before you expect it.