There is something painfully magical about wounds.
Whatever nature or origin,
they have a purpose.
In that messy, deep, raw wound
there lies profoundly buried the seed of healing.
Sometimes the seed grows rapidly and relief is soon found.
Sometimes the seed needs a cycle of nature's elements,
to nudge the germination,
with subsequent closure,
and scar as a reminder.
However there are wounds that somehow,
they will never stop bleeding,
or stop being mind shatteringly painful,
beyond any words
Only tears are allowed,
It is in that alchemical moment,
where tears meets silent haemorrhage,
winds of compassion and salty water
forges fiery metal,
and the eternal bleeding
becomes a sea
of silent awareness,
and the will to overcome.