This valley runs between wrists
That weighed a world and found it worth the cradling
Cushioning fingertips that meet in mercy
Touching wet cheeks that turn the other way
The trinity of joints that lift my sinking
Balancing grace like rain that falls to quench
Pleading
Coaxing
Holding
Bolstering
Cherishing hands
Underpinning my downward spirals
Undergirding the flimsy in me
Stabilising with a parent's tender
Soothing the bruises
Handling hurts like gathering gossamer
Filbert nails point forward, onward, upward
No fluster or waggle
No matter how fragile
Patient palms
Nurturing, nestling
I cannot fall through you
My Lord, my All.
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