A finger reached down
From within the depths of a higher plain,
Tickling the inner workings of my soul.

It scratched the surface
Layers of denial, its delicate nail
Peeling away the flakes of disregard

Exposing the sore
The wound spewed residue - agony past
And the fester of current disdain

Cleansing fresh pain
The source exposed and well identified
Truth the searing tincture to purify

The hand's healing strength
In careful caresses and soul massage
Embraces the flaws and nurses the ache

Welcome scars as proof
Of lessons learnt and inner beauty
Forgiven sin and the calm of belief