Sacred Scars

A scar from sin lays across my soul
like a rapier’s sword slash, now wholly
healed by the redemptive resurrection.
Such sacred scars like fallen stars,
reveal no secrets are hidden
from the holy light shining out
of the uttermost edge of the heavens.

This light anchors me like a tree
of steel, sinking deep roots that quiet
the random wind of sin,
now washed clean in the river by
baptism. I am but a bruised fruit,
blessed with a scar of sacred unction,
God’s mercy and grace.

Though I am writhen from His intentions
by a crooked path of protruding rocks
that mock my sinful journey,
my way back is always opened
by asking a simple question –
who is Jesus?