If space had a healing hand
It would cup the back of your head
As if you were newly born.
Which you are.
It would hover lightly, so close
To your breast and belly,
Softening and opening the clench
Of skin and muscle and nerve.
Slowly and safely thawing
The frost-bitten heart,
Melting painful electric shards between the cells,
Into gemstones.
That you are.
If space had a healing hand
It would lift you
From your broken crawl
Into a stance of grace and ease.
Your natural place.
If space had a healing hand…
Which it does
#365DaysOfCompassion 