Human Thing

02.17.08

The softness of the forehead
of the one
that accepts her Father’s tender words about her.

Regaining dignity that was lost
in fragments throughout the day.

Remembering to walk in a full kind of humanity,
and seeing it equally reflected in the faces of those around her.

It’s a human thing:
Wondering. Reaching. Straining.

My tiny hands.
Grasping at what they could possibly know.
Receiving gratefully.

My small feet.
Finding space on this earth
to walk in their own kind of way.

All limbs reflecting their Source.
Seeking out movements that rest between effort and ease.

It is Your voice that haunts
the dark places of my insides into light.

It is You who grants all movement.

And so…
I seek You.