He held out his hand in greeting
smiling, eyes sparkling,
happy to see me
but I saw the scars on his wrist
his wound public
but easily missed.

We all carry wounds within
that we disguise or otherwise
hide from public view
and if they knew,
who would they see anew?

A disfigured one
or a mass of clay
being crafted and re-formed each day
emerged from darkness of night
into a soul full of light.