🥚 Humpty’s Cramp in His Leg. Did He Have Any?

Note from the Author — RIF

This piece reflects both the immediacy of lived experience and the layered resonance of reflection, metaphor, and spiritual insight.

Some moments may feel raw or hesitant—that is intentional, preserving the authenticity of thought, sensation, and instinct in crisis.

The narrative unfolds across physical, emotional, and symbolic dimensions, inviting readers to experience tension, awe, and subtle triumphs.

> And it’s okay not to. Not everything we do is about solving a Rubik’s Cube—though it is a very interesting puzzle to think about. Is it a toy, or is it the most complicated puzzle to solve?

It happened fast—too fast to think, too slow to forget.

One slip from ten feet, one ledge, and the whole world tilted.

In midair I twisted, my body a weapon of reflex and instinct, trying to steer the crash as if every fiber of me knew the stakes. Then came impact—silence—stillness.

The force concentrated into my helmet, compressing, striking, testing every law of motion I thought I knew. Incredible. You’d think it would shatter somewhere, fail in some cruel twist—but the helmet absorbed the blow, dispersing it like a shield forged by some unseen hand.

> In a way, it was just a miracle.

I could have easily had my neck broken—that’s how brutal the collision was.

As much as I’d studied physics, motion, the mechanics of falls, it became clear: this was not skill alone. It wasn’t premeditation. The split-second twists, the instinctive turns—they came from something greater.

> God’s presence guided me, gave me support in facing this titanic collision. For a heartbeat, I thought I was gone.

And yet, with the discipline of a warrior and the precision of a scholar, I got up and walked away. No agony screamed through me, no sharp pains betrayed me. I did what a survivor does: I rested. I did not need a hospital. I did not need a doctor. I simply stood, breathed, and measured the miracle I’d been granted.

When I returned to myself, the world was quiet, but my body whispered warnings. The next day, my ribs and right side reminded me what gravity really means.

Some nights, the leg rebels—the muscles locking, contracting like beasts with a mind of their own. I limp to the kitchen, make a cup of coffee, and pray.

> God, loosen the grip.

Pain erupted, a lion sinking its teeth, then Whack!—a bat’s strike, sudden and brutal.

And then—just like that—it strikes me:

The whole ordeal, every tremor, every jolt, every small victory—it’s a scramble. A battle. A test.

Through it all, I stand—not just as a survivor, but as one who commands my own reality, measuring each moment, each strike, each breath with unshakable, Herculean sovereignty. In the small victories and the lingering aches, there is authority, there is mastery, and there is the quiet triumph of one who has faced the fall and remained unbroken.

Just some thoughts, as one had thought about Humpty Dumpty—

from reading the Masterclass, Mastercrafted piece

by Scott L. at www.eastwindpoems.site

> Like Humpty Dumpty on the Great Wall—did he lean back? Did he slip forward tying his shoes? No one really knows. I imagine him sliding frontways, arms flailing, cracking the air as badly as his shell. Somehow, I see myself in that fall too.

The End

And now, I’m going after my second cup of coffee. And I’m sure I’ll enjoy that.

Hope you enjoy yours, too.

Tag for the Rubik’s Cube metaphor:

Ultimate Puzzle

This formatting:

Uses pull quotes to highlight key reflections and miracles.

Breaks text into digestible visual chunks for online reading.

Emphasizes first-person immediacy, epic tone, and reflective pauses.

Integrates interactive elements, like the Rubik’s Cube question, to engage readers.

🦄

Hot Stepper,

Hope Provider,

Humpty Dumpty’s Unicorn ✨️