My hands

 

my hands

are a conduit for God

my eyes are lakes

my voice, the song

sometimes shy

as a bird calls

cracked

from the sacred egg.

 

born into the darkness

breaking light she begins to ask

beautiful questions.

 

in your heart is God’s heart,

you must build a bridge.

crafted with language

 

into a new frontier,

full sails

to the land of listening.