Remedy #32
by John Roedel
Article voiceover
oh, my love, I could see that you were deep in thought -but I couldn't help myself from interupting you I'm sorry for being rude - but I had a question for you that I was uable to shake my curiosity had sprouted as a sapling and then grew into a redwood with more branches than I could ever count I couldn't escape it -the quesiton tied had itself to my tongue -I had to ask you I drew a cautious breath and apporached the alter of your amber eyes "My love?" I asked you looked up at me thorugh the billowing steam rising up from your peppermint tea spilling your smile open like an ark that held a hundred million graces "My love, "I repeated. "Why have you been so quiet lately?" your smile didn't fade, -if anything it widened -like you had been waiting for me to finaly have the courage to ask my question you reached across the kitchen table and laid your hand on mine as if it were a picnic blanket softly, you said to me: "because I'm healing," your hand squeezed mine and suddenly I couldn't find my voice to offer a follow-up question for the first time in my life I was mute suddenly it all made sense wounds are so loud -injuries are like roars -being hurt always makes such a clamor -getting damaged is often so deafening but the act of restoration is so very silent it's a rose petal falling on a cotton bed the murmur of healing is just like that of a sleeping newborn humming calmly in the arms of their mother the repair of our soul takes place under a canopy of divine lullabies recovery often arrives in a hush -like vespers being delicately sung at sunrise in a stone monastery the voice of renewal gently echoes off the walls inviting us to fall into the near noiseless sound of our punctured heart being filled with hope once again calling us to sit in stillness as all the rips we have torn in each other are being sewn back together by the seamstress of forgiveness my love, your silence has taught me that being made whole again is usually an inaudable miracle healing doesn't bang a gong or ring a bell in fact, the only sound healing makes is one of a babbling brook in the distance -calling us to follow it and discover the moving water that will make us new if we just lay down in its holy flow -oh, my love, my scars are always ringing in my ears and it always sounds like the echo of my past injuries screaming at me from the past -my love, can you teach me your secrets of inaudible healing? while I'm being made whole again and my love, teach me how to listen so very carefully to the wonderful silence of my coming recovery