Scarification

A poem on beginnings

Photo by imso gabriel on Unsplash

Hello friends,

It’s time for another Soaring Twenties Social Club Symposium. This month’s theme is Beginnings. I’ve really come to enjoy writing these monthly themed pieces. A prompt, no matter how simple, can coax incredible things from your brain. Without further ado, here’s “Scarification.”

Scarify (verb): to cut or soften the wall of (a hard seed) to hasten germination


A sheltered self is like a seed
that cannot breathe, lying dormant
beneath the earth, warm and safe. But
this refuge is an illusion, a will-o'-the-wisp
that does not exist. Unscathed, we remain
alone.

Scars can be gateways. Pain unlocks
doors we didn't see before. Through the cracks,
sustenance trickles in, a slow drip
like a hand reaching out, offering
hope. Outside forces burn and break
but only for a moment. Temporary
struggle teaches us to unclench our fists.

We emerge weak and vulnerable, just
like all the others. Our soft insides
unfurl. At first, the wind is harsh
and the rain stings. But we adapt.
The breeze becomes a balm; the skies
open to share their wealth. Something more
grows within us. This time
we don't try to keep it hidden.
We let ourselves bloom.

Birds will take our bounty.
Woodland creatures will feast
on our leaves. A small child
will pluck from us our beauty, but
this is not the end. The ones who take from us
will learn and spread our teachings.
Our knowledge transforms into
a different type of nourishment. Our seeds
disseminate. We begin again.

If you want more poetry in your life, we’ll hold our next Sad Poets Society meeting in a few days. This month we’ll be discussing Linda Pastan’s “Why Are Your Poems so Dark?” Much like scarification prompts germination, dark poems prompt introspection. Click the link above to become a paying subscriber and join us in the discussion of darkness.