Beauty Out of Brokenness
Once, Nuwa shaped the skies with shards of shattered stone and turtle legs,
But that was long ago; now you can find her in a skyscraper.
Above the clouds you’ll find her, crafting beauty from brokenness still.
The bits of broken bottles, ugly-colored stones, forgotten things,
She strings and smelts and winds together into something e’en greater.
Once, Nuwa shaped the skies with shards of shattered stone and turtle legs.
Her art you’ll find perhaps in museum or hoard of wealthy king,
But likely more in park or glen, a gift to both man and nature.
Above the clouds you’ll find her, crafting beauty from brokenness still.
Her turtle likes to watch her craft and crawls among her rings and springs,
And sometimes steps in bright pink ink and treks all over Nuwa’s paper.
Once, Nuwa shaped the skies with shards of shattered stone and turtle legs.
I’ve heard her too; in evenings soft, she plays a hulusi and sings,
And watches world the moon illume alongside light of taper.
Above the clouds you’ll find her, crafting beauty from brokenness still.
Uncountable, the good she does; more love into our lives she brings
In this our lost and lonely time where brokenness is dictator.
Once, Nuwa shaped the skies with shards of shattered stone and turtle legs.
Above the clouds you’ll find her, crafting beauty from brokenness still.