Dali at the Lamp Post posted a writing prompt last week: use the word "broken" somewhere in a freewrite. I wrote a few lines of verse as my freewrite -- here it is without revision:
"Only You can make me perfect again." -- Bono, "All Because of You."
Shattered like a crystal glass on the kitchen floor,
I lie here,
Unable to stir
Unable to move even my little finger
Without pain.
I'm more than broken
And less than broken.
The body trembles, fails, faints,
Drapes itself on the sofa for hours and hours,
Immobilized by weakness and restraint.
Yet the mind clinks on,
Ferreting Truth from the chaos,
Seeking the lovely in the unlovely,
Claiming what may be unclaimable
But claiming anyways.
The mind flies where the body
Cannot follow.
To faraway lands filled with art of the masters
And to Evensong in stunning cathedrals,
To places I've been, places I want to be.
Yet my broken body is reality --
A reality to be lived day by day,
Hour by hour, minute by minute.
Offered up to Him whose body
Also was broken, and broken for all.
If I were to revise, I would change or omit the fourth stanza, but it's what came out in a ten-minute spurt of writing.
Little thoughts from my mind to yours about living a contemplative life in a far too busy world.
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