The language of scars

 I used the prompt scars for Poets and Storytellers United

The Language of Scars

I started with many scars,
folding the scratches and scrapes
carefully into my soul,
then stumbled and stepped up
to face the world.

I fought fiercely.
Like a wild river, I carved
my way through the valley.
I crumbled and cried
but I found my guide
in the majestic mountains.

I found the light
spreading its emerald hue
across the morning dew.
I found the truth
splashing drops of wisdom
in a quiet symphony
of my mystical journey
over stone and rock.

My scars lie buried within,
whispering stories.
I now understand
that pain is a river
flowing through many lands,
and in its current,
I found a language
to reach the wounded hand.