Just as aged wine, with its complexities and layered depths, so to is this traveled body.
Fresh, clean fruit with purity of the vine offers no knowledge of the dirt, no wisdom of the impending rot and moss.
These transfigured hands tell the story of a battle. Hard-won survival from the war, waged upon these very bones.
This struggled flesh is a showcase for all the world to see: “I survived my own private hell and I am here to testify.”
These eyes no longer see the delights of youth and fancy. Now they culminate in vision; revealing deceptive attempts to hide the truth.
These ears no longer respond to claims of dreams to come true. Instead they perceive intention behind words meant to deceive and profit from my loss.
Yet, despite all of this, the decades have tempered my young arrogance, from bitterness into a softened and compassionate heart; a complex and forgiving heart. Like a good wine only appreciated by those also burdened by the wares of time. We drink to our aged wisdom and we testify to the truth. No longer swayed by promises of “forever young”. Only embracing our scars of knowledge; because these belong to us. These are treasures not possessed by youth, but earned because we weathered the storm with grace.
We survive to tell you the tale of things you could not possibly know, young ones. But you will.
–Mission Healing Engage © 2021