Open Hands

You, far away,
have uncurled your fist for the gentle one
who travels so far,
day after day,
to climb into your palm. 

Their words are carefully honeyed,
filled with intention and meaning and love,
terrified of sharpening themselves
on rushed desire lest you fall upon them
and cut a heart open. 

You, so far away,
have finally opened a hand to them, 
and they are
elated. 

They are
joyful. 

They are
hurrying to your outstretched fingers. 

Stroke them gently. Sing to them,
for they are deserving of everything
that’s beautiful and wonderful and
makes their heart sing 
and their words come.
Hold them close, so you will know them, 
and never forget.
Pour whispered sugar into their ears 
now and every day, through their twilight
until their dusk, from which
their words will remain 
safely tucked into your palms
for as long as you would hold them.

Do these things, and I will reserve
a special place for you
in the silent corners of my heart,
until the end of my days.

December 22 – 23, 2025