Already Broken

By Paul | Published: September 29, 2007

This cup
From which I sip
My tea I know
To be already
Broken.

As I bring it
To my lips, secure
In my fingertips, I
Cherish it all
The more, while
It remains whole
In my world.

Already broken,
Shards upon the floor,
By my own unskillful
Act, or another’s
Careless move.
Or just time.

Such is the way
Of all I love?
Never with me
Long enough,
Always changing
Breaking
Dying.

This is truth, high
And noble, a
Thing to sublimate
Sorrow to joy, if
I will accept it. Yet

Knowing there are
No more cups
In the cupboard
Crushes my heart.
When this my last
Cup breaks, I will have
No more tea.

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Catherine

Posted October 9, 2007 at 3:38 pm | Permalink

Wow…beautiful. I love this.
heart in san francisco

Posted October 14, 2007 at 1:53 am | Permalink

This is lovely. No cup breaks in a vacuum; there are always consequences.
Tara

Posted November 5, 2007 at 4:39 pm | Permalink

beautiful and precise…universally personal.

my other thought upon completion of the poem; ‘drink tea from a bowl!’ it’s my practical and literal side.

lovely images. thank you.
Paul

Posted November 5, 2007 at 7:40 pm | Permalink

Tara, thanks for dropping by. I’m glad you like the poem.