Healing Hand – Brad Hunter

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

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