Where the Wound Becomes Spring

For those who carry wounds, we could learn from trees in spring.

Someone made deep cuts into them, just to take advantage of a few moments of warmth. Raw, open wounds that seem to call for more cutting, as if healing required removing even more.

And yet, right there—exactly where I thought more had to be cut away to heal—they offer their first buds of spring.
They don’t run from the wound. They don’t hide it. They keep living, keep growing, responding with life where there has been rupture.

Maybe healing isn’t always about cutting more, but about allowing spring to return.