You Have Opened a Wound

Dear friend, it's my pleasure to share with you today a new poem that came to my heart, thinking about a harm I may have caused someone, or an open wound that persists in my chest.

You may have had a similar experience that still pains you and may want to share it in your comment.

In any case, if you decide to remain silent or not, I hope this poem touches you, somehow.

You Have Opened A Wound.

(A poem by Sal Godoij.)

You've opened a wound, but don't think about it
You don't have to mull over it

Somewhere around your space

Suspended, the wound observes you
I don't know if the wound condemns you

That's your part, after all, you own it

The wound that you've opened is a part of yourself

And it's alive, it beats, it breathes, it doesn't close

Don't hide the wound, don't cover it with bandages

Instead, uncover it, expose it to the sun, to the rain

Denounce it, as if the wound were a lie

Yet don't claim you didn't know what you were doing

When you did hurt someone, when you did open that wound

Ignorance is not an excuse; you know this well

That wound is a sun now, a sun that you cannot cover with one finger

It's a sun, I repeat, a sun that burns in you, that burns you

But also enlightens you
Alas, there are wounds that neither God can heal
Because God, too, every second, every hour, every day, a lifetime

He opens wounds that never heal

For good or bad

Why is that? Why, you, the innocent one, asks

Instant wounds, unexpected, surprisingly painful, sharp

Bleeding, deep, incurable wounds

But don't think about it, don't mull over it

For whatever you do, whatever you believe, whatever you feel

The wound is there, floating in the space of your dreams
And it might be you

You, a wound, which, with the years, your tears

Have watered it as if it were a flower

And it has bloomed, and you can see now that the wound is open
And through it, your sorrows rise and flow like a kaleidoscope of butterflies.