#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Wild in the marsh

A heart is opened in surgery, I visit a friend, freshly ravaged, last night.

We are called to be so vulnerable to save ourselves.

This is an operation - release all control.

Expose bare chest, endure the knife, it's sharpest point, risk the expanse or limit of a surgeon's skill.

Repair, is it? When the beating organ, unwrapped, dares what's broken - how is it fixed when it's sewn closed, is the heart made more whole and does a feeling, say love, rush forth, renewed?