Old Wounds

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I wear my heart beneath my sleeve. I may lift my sleeve and show my scars.

One day, when I get to know you. I may decide to share my pain.

I wear my heart around my neck for all to see

Yet it is hidden just beneath the neckline.

Do not dare to enquire why my heart is broken, for I do not know.

 

It seems to be an ancient wound that lies deep inside my mind;

It lies in the pain of others handed down to me.

It is the pain of love known and lost.

 

Oh how gladly I accept the pain! I am a vessel for the pain of the world;

I bleed for you, for many and for the pain I feel within me and without you.

 

What blessed touch can stop this wound from leaching life away from me?

How may I staunch the flow and let the scab begin to form?

 

Only hope and complete surrender to the pain of simply being;

Only love and self-forgiveness poured into a well of wounds;

Only time and rest and the company of angels.

 

Only silence and the power of soft tranquillity;.

Only simple faith that healing can come:- will come

And in my heart all things will come to good.

 

Althea