The Bandage that Heals

​Sharp, stinging pain.
The woulds are fresh again.
The cloth I used to wrap
my wounds
stripped. Carries dried blood - 
brown and dead.

The blood flows once again,
red with life and pain.
Breaking free from the trap
spilled on the grounds.
Ready to be healed,
ready as I need.

You knew where the pain
cleansed, bandaged again.
Love was used to wrap
my wounds.
"You are mine.
You'll heal in time."

This poem started as a reflection on one of the Stations of the Cross - the 10th Station: Jesus is Stripped of his garments. I can only imagine the pain of having the dried cloth ripped off his body. As I went through the retreat, I realized that I was going through the same ripping of the cloth. I bandaged my wounds with dirty cloth in my hurry to get healed. But they didn't heal. I had to go through the painful stripping, to revisit old wounds, so that the healing bandage can be used. Only the bandage of his love can heal my wounds.