The dverse haibun prompt is about finding pleasure in broken things.
How many times have we taken in a damaged heart, four legs and eyes full of doubt? How many small lives encountered, fur flea-crawling and gut full of worms, scars on the skin and in the mind? How often have I held a scrap of fur in cupped hands and felt the tremor of a heartbeat, stroked a head, scabbed and filthy until, with a soft sigh, the muscles relax and the thought of flight dissolves?
Your lives fit around mine, drift in and out of the river, flit from patch to pool of ephemeral sunlight until the time comes for you to sink back into the teeming earth, and I am privileged to have walked a short way in your warmth. You are so many, broken things that live in our shadow not by our sides, fearful where there should be companionship. How can it be otherwise, when we are so indifferent to the sufferings of our own kin?
Take a piece of earth,
dig in seeds, pour spring sunshine—
even dust will sprout.