I peeled back the bandage.
"This is my wound,"
I said.

"It looks like it's healing,"
he said.

"Yes, it is.
It still hurts some,
but nothing like before."

"What's made the difference?"

"I stopped pretending
it didn't exist,
stopped telling myself
I shouldn't be hurt that badly.
I allowed it,
    observed it,
    acknowledged it.
I admitted the depth of it
and believed it.
I treated it with kindness.
With all of that
the pain eased
and it began to close."

Tears now traced his face,
so I put a hand
on his shoulder.
"You are wounded, too?"
I asked.

"Yes.
Please help me to heal."

"First we look at the wound."

With trembling hands
he opened his shirt;
our deepest wounds
involve the heart.

Text and
image © 2013 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.