Hurt

Hurt

When we are injured, in our flesh
Or in our spirit, then
There are reactions that we feel
And pain is one of them.

The body heals or does its best.
The spirit too can heal –
But only if we act – or breathe,
Observing what we feel.

But if we tussle with our pain,
It only deepens more.
For words, to self or others, can't
Repair the part that's sore.

The hurt we feel is real, yet
It need not turn to hate.
Do not dismiss or nurse it. Watch
It form and dissipate.

And so it is with loss and grief,
And others hurts as well.
They come to us – and for awhile,
Within us, grow and dwell.

But then, like all that lives, they leave,
And that's as it should be.
As long as we're alive, from hurt,
We never will be free.

But that same breath, which lets in hurt,
Releases it again.
Whatever starts, has end – and so
There is an end to pain.

2013 June 1st, Sat.
Brooklyn