Dear hands,
drained of colour you cling to fear.
The thought of freedom’s sweet release
scarier than the tear.
Perhaps the time has come
to break these treasured chains,
and open like a flower
waiting for the rain.
To reach for the great beyond
and draw its visions clear.
Let words of life pool in your palms,
quench thirsts far and near.
One thought on “a well of life”