Poetry: So Many Hands

Again…a throwback flashback from circa 2010’ish perhaps.

So Many Hands

There is no one here to talk to
so I appeal to the moon
and stars
with my heart,
in the way that wolves do
and with deep longing
sing an imploring chant
that becomes its own

I feel so many hands
capturing me
just as I am
not as who I will be
just as I am
not as who I was
just as I am
as I am falling
into so many hands.

They spread out as full moonlight,
they number greater than feathers on wings
lifting me into darkbright sky
lofting spirit on a late night fly
so very many hands
and I have no need to know why.

When I fall inwards
towards grief, what the moon
and the wolf tell me,
about sadness
is that I am never alone
when I cry
with a full heart.

So many hands
wait to support
your hunched shoulders
and enough tears
to fill up
your very own heart.

Your compassion waits, with bated breath
hanging in the air on cold nights
to be reclaimed
through heated inspiration.

So many hands
just waiting to support you,
so many hands
clasped in prayer
for you to fall into your heart
all around you, always.

About skymeetingtheground

Healer, poet, author, yogi, single father...outdoorsy guy.
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