This murmurs truth like a waterfall rushing down the page.
To hold the hand of another,
To keep your head down and heart up,
You can pray this way,
You can work this way.
When a name is only a name,
And a smile a thousand crowns,
We weave our hearts together in toil,
To maybe weave our lives closer to God,
We reach for the hand that is silent,
The one whose voice could not carry,
The one locked in the prison of imperfect,
Where nothing makes sense in the dark.
But when a hand reaches for another,
The magic is passed by a squeeze and smile
And whispers a hope, “I’ll stay a while.”
When hearts beat to the same rhythm,
When the blood of humanness courses as one,
There is a comfort in that place,
A place where the Spirit sings,
A melody that makes our spirits glad,
If even for a moment, the fragrance lingers on.
View original post 93 more words