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The Hands That Hold Light

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The weight you carry feels immense
yet even in the grayest hour
a hand reaches out, a tiny touch
a spark soft, certain, alive

Moments like that linger
a cheek brushed, a kiss
reminders that love sees you
even when the world feels heavy

You do not have to fix it all
nor carry every shadow alone
Breathe, for breath itself
is a small rebellion, a promise of more

Let the heartbeats you cherish
be the rhythm you return to
The smallest joys are fierce
and even in waiting
the light moves closer
steady, unshakable, yours

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    4 COMMENTS

    1. Chère G.,
      How lovely to read this.
      It resonates hugely with me.
      You obviously feel the importance of these hands and you may be very proud (hope this is English?) having them.
      And writing about them.
      Hats off.
      Warm regards, Gus

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