Grateful for the Wound

Walking on BeachOn my left cheek, there’s an old scar
Received when I was five…..
Given by German Shepherd dog.
I still remember the dull needle,
Twenty-two stitches,
Hurt almost as much as the teeth
Ripping flesh at the side of the yard.
 
After decades, it shows more
When I frown or when I
Look too closely in a mirror.
I always can see it just about here.
But when five years old, overwhelmed with
Meaningless pain, I just cried.
 
Now I’m grateful that wound
Missed the Great Imperial Eye,
The one that sees meaning in pain
Right through the mist,
Distraction of rain that falls as world’s tears….
Late in the night, I listen to the Voice,
Speaking from center of bones.
 
Now I am healing doctor and I am the priest.
I am the boy still telling the tale.
As I listen, I no longer frown but smile,
No need to look in the mirror on the wall.
Meaningless, meaningless is the breath of the wind—
Washing the water over my feet,
Salt of the sea soothing and healing the pain.

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2 thoughts on “Grateful for the Wound

  1. Well, I have a black lab…. I’ve never had a fear or dogs, other than German Shepherds and Dobermans and Pit Bulls. Those I just don’t care for.

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