The plate fell from her hands
She cried out
But she could not catch it

The plate crashed to the ground
She watched it
As it broke in pieces

She gathered the fragments
Her tears fell
The plate was special to her

She took it to an expert
She envisioned it
Being made whole again

Time passed as she waited
She picked it up
She looked at it in awe

The plate was round again
But not the same
The breaks still visible

The master had repaired it
She smiled to see
The glue held sparks of gold

The broken places shone
Pieces held together
Beauty and usefulness restored

Another poem inspired by Afterlife, a book by Julia Alvarez.

1st Draft

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7 Responses to Restored

  1. Judy Curtiss says:

    Beautiful poem. Love the last two verses – the master restored it and Beauty and usefulness restored. One can correlate that to our own lives – we are broken, but are restored every day. Thanks for sharing.

  2. elsie says:

    Beautiful poem! I am thinking about life as the plate and how it will be restored in the future.

  3. Julie says:

    I love that line: “Beauty and usefulness restored.” So necessary and true.

  4. Terje says:

    Beautiful poem about the mended perfectly imperfect plate.

  5. majfoil says:

    Your poem causes such distress in me — when the plate breaks — and then has me sit waiting – for some reason not completely at peace — and finally beauty out of brokenness, and peace. šŸ˜€

  6. Ramona says:

    Another lovely poem, Diane. Love these words: “The broken places shone.” I had to pause and make sure that I’ve requested this book. And I have, but it will be awhile – I’m hold #64 on 18 copies. Nothing wrong with some anticipation, right?

  7. Ruth Ayres says:

    Diane, I love the art of repairing broken-ness — in pottery and in humans. The glittering gold gave me pause.

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