The Gentle Hand (a poem)

Let it flow through the gentle hand,

a guiding grace and warring companion,

which holds a lover and loses a friend

as it reaches for what it cannot keep;

let it flow as a river from deep within

to satisfy those in a waterless waste,

with bones as dry as the lifeless dust

absorbing a drop as if from heaven;

let it flow through ignited mind

like sparks flying from the crackling fire,

igniting a flame in another’s heart

by the passion engulfing your own;

let it flow as the raging storm

that shakes the earth and turns the tide,

devouring all within its wake

to fuel its swelling madness on;

let it flow like love has won

the war within one’s pulsing heart,

that though your deeds may be as sand

they flow like love through the gentle hand.

I wrote this poem sometime ago about doing all work as an expression of love, recognizing that our lives are full of working, but we don’t always do our work with a sense of purpose or meaning.

We easily go on autopilot or work from a sense of obligation or even fear, but this poem speaks to unlocking the deep passions within our souls and expressing them, regardless of what we do, in a form of love and letting them “flow like love through the gentle hand.”

So what about you?

What are you passionate about?

How can you create with love?