A wound is an opening
into which healing can enter
and through which healing can occur.

In filters air
and light,
and warm or cool
of love. . .

out osmose
the obstacles,
the things come in a glut
that coagulate and clot–
they have a chance to melt
to free places they were
fiercely held,

and salving time
comes in due season,
a wright by which
a resolution’s wrought. . .

pain fades,
grief recedes,
and vulnerable openness
bends like a phototropic leaf
to feeding light–

a fearful, self-protective stance
re-shaped to suppleness
and strength
through lengthy, sweaty,
dizzy dance

and what once seemed
an unsightly bleeding wound,
a melancholy melody,
and out of tune,
one day, with newer eyes,
will show itself
in far more pleasing guise
when that which felt
so wrong
will blend just right,

and the body will walk
broad strides
between which nothing hides
and that hurt hole that used to gape
is comfortable, closed, and straight,

and spirit’s open
to admit
all it loves and needs,
but also strong
enough to halt
whatever threats may intercede.

This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.


  1. bluebee says:

    “A wound is an opening into which healing can enter” – that provides a perspective I have never thought of, Elaine – but, of course! Strength through adversity – as your poem’s final stanza conveys so beautifully 🙂

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