healing

the foamy crash's roar
rides the wind
that tousles my hair,
the strong pull
beneath the surface
buries my ankles
in grainy sand;

it repeats
again and again

as I stare
across the gray canvas
stretching to the horizon
time stands still,
my soul knows peace

is this as close
as we come
to healing
the aches of our world

Healing

we are all part
of something greater
than ourselves;

the best of us
look out
when they need to heal
within

Healing

how long does healing take,
which matters more:
the size of the wound
or its location,
what if it's on the heart,

those wounds on the heart
hurt the hardest,
and stay the longest,
lingering in the scars formed
over these deepest of wounds,

perhaps in time they'll fade,
though never so far
they can't be plucked
back from memory;
we'll never forget
they are what made us