My hand is wrapped around this pen. It looks so purposeful.
What a useful tool and sweet engagement, the pen and hand.
My Heart urges, " Go ahead, tell them what you really want."
Hhhhh...
I want to hold your hand... walking across a dusty street,
sitting quietly in a garden, resting side by side in bed... anywhere.
I want to hold your hand.
Yes, I have held little hands and old.
I have held sick hands and ones so cold.
I have taken a sisters hand to say, "Remember who your are!"
Yet, your hand, my Love, seems so very far... away.
And my Heart wants to know...
if I could offer you my hand to hold this day,
would you be able to receive it, graciously?
Would you seek to know me through this sacred hand?
Would you care to listen to the lines that tell of a Destiny
and a Love that wanders free?
When you see the tiny sparkles of water on the skin and feel the pulse of Truth,
would you say, "You need not wander anymore, I am here."
Could you stand by your word?
Would we still be free?
Would you realize these hands have clung to ropes while repelling down cliffs?
They have pulled me through small, dark passages, cave diving into Mother Earth.
They have paddled along rivers, climbed trees, cleaned little faces.
These hands have donned a boxing glove once or twice
and fell asleep holding onto an antique knife.
They have gone dark with engine grease, been colored with paint
and covered with clay, in the settled times.
They have held many sacred Hearts, most reverently.
So...I just want to know, " Will you hold my hand?"
Fingers interlaced,
traveling All of Space,
moving with God's Grace,
Love.
