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.