His Hand…

This moved me to tears. Absolutely lovely tribute. Must experience.

Growing Self

His Hand…

Her hand, pink flesh pure as the morning dew,

held on so tightly,

engulfed by His strong, yet gentle grasp.

He walked with her for hours, patiently listening to Her dreams,

Her deepest fears,

Her endless tears.

Her hand, now older, nestled within His aging grasp,

was not equal in size, but held the same strength.

A strength passed on…from Him.

A strength modeled…from Him.

A strength embedded within Her soul…from Him.

Her hand,

fighting back the tears,

held on ever so tightly, knowing His time was near.

She sat with Him for hours, patiently listening to His stories,

His deepest fears,

His endless tears.

Her hand, caressing his cold, lifeless hand,

embraced His, one last time…

She still senses His presence,

gaining strength from His memories,

His wisdom.

She wishes, for just one moment,

to be held by…

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