Haibun ~ Remade



In the early hours of the morning after the three-week anniversary of my fall, while running, I hear you get out of bed and creak open the bedroom door, letting in the moonlight, and I call, can you make me a piece of toast?

And when you return, minutes later, with the thickly buttered slice, you ask if I want another, and I say, yes, and could I have hot milk with honey and whisky too? You laugh and say, you must be feeling better.

And in that moment, I realise I am, even though I still can’t move my left arm, or raise my shoulder and my elbow joint is like a swollen mound of risen dough, but hard.

We heal in small ways. Bread, milk, and honey. Kindness. And through the magical science of blood clotting around the break, its meshwork of proteins plugging the gap, the immune system’s orchestra of inflammation, stem cells migrating from tissue, bone marrow and blood to form cartilage, more bone.

We are our own small miracles. We remake ourselves over and over. Tell me now of your own renewal. How you rose again from pain, loss or grief. 

we are so much more 
than the bones of ourselves


David ap Cymru said…
Well done Lynne. Rising again. How I turned myself to face me. When i inhabited the deepest valley, someone held out the truth for me, in the stairwell of an old building. I wonder why i remember that. There were things I could not go around, so I could only go through them. And those words unfolded themselves slowly in my head. And by being there, and doing that, and facing the truth that I hadn’t been able to face, I was finally able to come back. Lost and found.
Lynne Rees said…
The right words at the right time are a gift. Thank you.