Broken

A few moons back, I broke my leg in a small accident and spent six weeks in a cast; confined to my bedroom and unhealed wounds from a broken relationship (from ages ago!) surfaced. And as my body healed, so did my soul, as well. And here it is. Broken and Mended.

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It was the day,

My broken leg,

Healed my broken heart.

Yes. I fell off my bike,

And my leg was placed in a cast.

I yelled in pain,

Tiny, damaged ligaments can be quite bothersome.

But, not as much as the sharp, burning pain,

That pierced my beating, hurting heart.

Lost love had me undone.

The humiliation of rejection scored through my arteries and veins,

Like listless red poison, making me cringe,

Washed over by a feeling of unworthiness.

Wanting desperately to be wiped off; of the face of the earth.

Turning into nothingness.

But again,

The broken leg brought with it,

Broken moments of loneliness,

Alone, cast aside, in a cast.

Examining my brokenness. Every little fragment.

Fractured. Shattered. Dishevelled. Disjointed.

Like a mother would her newborn.

In awe, in anguish and in dreadful glee.

Until, through the broken pieces

Gleamed a pristine, white light,

At first, I thought it was some fancy new-age baba

With his timeless infinite wisdom.

Hell No! It was my brokenness,

Shining back at me.

Telling me I was always whole.

And I was always enough.

Of course, it was the day

When a broken leg meant a mended heart.