just(is) breathe

Poem 0045 – wound

I walk about with an
Old wound
On my heart.Heart Rocks
Though I think I keep it
Hidden
I know that it
Leaps out from my being
At times both desired
And not.

The scar tissue is like
A white wall
Around my insides,
As if it could
Protect me from
The next injury.

Neither the wound
Nor the scar tissue
Are protection.
And yet to hold them —
Consciously & tenderly —
In front of me
Is the only way
To be real
With myself.

~ by Stan Stewart

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2 thoughts on “Poem 0045 – wound”

  1. This poem gets into my blood… right to my own heart. Thank you for allowing, sharing, making this connection, Stan.

    I keep letting myself play around with what do these words of Rumi really mean?
    “Fall in love with the agony of love, not the ecstasy. Then the Beloved will fall in love with you.” Rumi (Sufi Perfect Master)

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