Scars' Transient Nature


Our surface etchings,
how quiet the disfiguring moves,
skin's tenacity ever protective,
even as tissue of smiles eventually
becomes but canyon topography of time’s erosion.

Leisurely proceeds the savage healing beneath,
bombarded with Nature's unexpected,
aging platelet’s shift,
taking their time,
knowing we wait,
uplifting sorrows once buried,
making molten the flow
that once remained contained and hardened.

Whether by deed,
word,
or thought,
wounds begin as opened expressions,
their potential scars knowing patience
an art rendering of the often-dreaded kind.

And then...

The day finally arrives.

 
Scars begin to shrivel.

 
Age becomes its own embrace.

 
The earned chameleon friendship cycle complete.

 
The rebirth of crying again erupts,
exposing the wrinkled baby of another kind

awaiting protection of innocence.

This time,
with the long sleep
poised at the threshold,
awakening resigns its prerogative.

 
Smiling muscles mix with sadness,
completing the resonant mantle,

becoming complete in Man’s oneness

with Nature’s cyclic infallibility.