Blinding, shooting pain upon grasping too tightly
Or when I insist on that white knuckled grip
A loose grip causes no pain at all
Things pass in and out of my hands naturally, effortlessly
When I do not insist on hanging on
This frees me up to always be open
Able to give happily
And to receive gratefully
The cycle continues as it is meant to
And so this morning
I look at what they called broken, beyond help
And I see wholeness
And I thank my hands, and even the pain
Because this rather obvious metaphor for life
Is a lesson I very much needed
And avoided for a long time
Today is a new day
And my hands are ready to play their part
In the beautiful circle
Yes!
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