The blog will pick a word of the week, to share & explore the selected word. Here’s an expression for the word – wabi-sabi (侘寂).
A crooked branch leans
toward no perfect sky
yet, holds a bird’s brief rest.
The page yellows slowly
ink fading into whispers
no one needs to read.
What endures
is not the flawless line
but, the one that trembled
paused
and chose to remain.
Rain gathers in a broken bowl
finding purpose
in what was once discarded.
The roof leaks in one place
just enough
to teach the floor
how to listen.
The paint peels in soft curls
like time loosening its grip
on certainty.
The garden grows uneven
one side wild
one side almost tended.
Between them
a kind of truth
no symmetry could hold.
A stone, half-buried
does not argue with the earth
it softens into it.
Morning light enters
through a dusty pane
softened, imperfect
more kind that way.
Evening folds slowly
not cleanly
edges blur
colours lean into one another
without judgement.
And, somewhere in that fading
nothing is complete
nothing is broken
only becoming
less certain
more real.
The lantern flickers unsure
yet, gives just enough light
to keep the dark honest.
Time doesn’t rush here
It loosens knots
unthreads edges
turns sharpness into beauty.
And, in between
this fragile, ordinary world
continues
beautiful in its incompleteness.
Nothing asks to be perfect
only to be here
briefly
as it is.
