seven months

Palms

I used to turn two palms upward

Towards promises and skies

Towards “here my hope lies”

Towards “man should not live on 

bread alone”

Towards “for this you will not be able 

to atone”

Towards “man was not meant to 

be alone”

But now your hand and mine

Are intertwined

Two palms laid before the feet 

Of the servant king who heals the blind

Calling “Hosanna to the creator of all mankind”

Fulfilling our god given, original design

In a soundless swaying stillness