Evolution

26 Sep

holding-hands1

A frightened hand reaches for another

The innocence of youth ever limiting

The absence of fluid motion

The visual acuity of an unborn child…


Soaked and tattered, beaten and bruised

Grandma’s prized stainless tarnished from neglect

Carried by a stranger to a place of solace

Where butterfly wings and bird song orchestrate a melody forever ascending…


The heart beats to the sound of success

Only a ballerina’s tiptoes touch the earth

To catch a glimpse of a mind in motion

One that even Versailles cannot contain…


Yet a womb remains barren

An incomplete journey

Granules of sand seeping through the hourglass

Unconditional love slipping from one’s grasp…


A rescue from all ordinary and mundane

Exploration leads to a foreign land for some

Where the forbidden fruit is oh so sweet

Laughter abundant…


Today there’s a hand with no hand to hold

Yet a warmth remains

A single set of footprints on rain-soaked streets

Yet hope and anticipation exists.

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