
To heal an old wound,
one yet raw and painful to the touch even after all this time,
even though a veneer made it appear sewn it together tightly-
or so you thought.
Perhaps never allowed the time to knit its edges back together with strong enough intentions
all the while continually poking at it with memories both nostalgic and regretful.
To heal an old wound, one must remember.
Remember the good with the bad
without sugar coating any of it,
without illusion or rose colored glasses.
Remember the raw life lived and the lessons learned,
the promises you made to yourself from the depths of sorrow.
Revisit, acknowledge, study with eyes and heart made clearer by lessons hard-won.
You know now what you will take and what you will never accept again,
no matter how soft your heart or how old your soul.
To heal an old wound, you grow through it
until one day you notice only a puckered pink scar in its place,
there to remind you of your resiliency, your power;
A reminder of how far you have come in this journey called life.
Life is a gift to be lived in the here and now,
the only place where it truly happens,
filled with starts and stutters, mistakes and successes.
Every step there to lead us toward understanding,
toward healing,
toward love.

This is a beautiful poem. Also very solid advice.
Thanks so much, Brooke. ❤️
Wonderful words to live by! That puckered pink scar is proof positive that life endures and all wounds heal…
Thank you ❤️
So beautiful!
Thank you, Cathy. ❤️
It is really beautiful and true.
Thank you, Susan. ❤️