Kintsugi Heart

Lyrics

[Intro]

In the dim light of a Kyoto workshop,
just after sunrise, 6:30 AM,
on an autumn morning in 2019,
the air cool at 18 degrees Celsius.

[Verse 1]
You, my cracked ceramic bowl,
shattered from a fall in the tea ceremony,
back in the time of Ashikaga Yoshimasa, 1436 to 1490,
when wabi-sabi first embraced the imperfect.
I hold you now, edges jagged,
like the neural pathways I once thought broken forever.
Tomita Yoshinobu, born 1955,
whispers through his quote from The Japan Times,
"Kintsugi is not just about fixing;
it’s about transforming the broken into something more beautiful."

[Chorus]

Gold dust in your veins,
urushi lacquer, sticky and amber,
applied with this thin bamboo brush.
I press the metal spatula gently,
sealing the scars with light.
My heart, like you, mends in gold,
emotional repair, neural threads rewoven.

[Verse 2]
The shelf in the corner, cluttered with jars,
fine gold in tiny ceramic bowls,
the sharp resinous scent of urushi fills the tatami-matted room.
Outside, a hand-pulled rickshaw waits on historic streets,
but here, we sit at the low wooden table,
shoji doors sliding open to the breeze.
A tray of miso soup and rice, untouched,
as I work without gloves, embracing the risk,
the sap from Toxicodendron vernicifluum tree,
its potential irritation a meditative challenge.

[Chorus]

Gold dust in your veins,
urushi lacquer, sticky and amber,
applied with this thin bamboo brush.
I press the metal spatula gently,
sealing the scars with light.
My heart, like you, mends in gold,
emotional repair, neural threads rewoven.

[Bridge]

To the unnamed apprentices, lost in workshop ledgers,
and the unanswered questions of intent,
was it aesthetic or deeply personal?
I address you, my bowl, my heart,
in this quiet transformation,
from fragile to fortified,
resilience born in the cracks.

[Outro]

The metallic whiff lingers,
as gold settles perfectly,
a philosophy of life,
more beautiful than before.