hands

“My times are in your hand” Psalm 31:15a

from the moment we

put our feet on the

hope-worn rug to

the lonely lunch in

the corner of the

noisy café, to the

device on the wall

trying to elicit laughter

from my empty soul or

tears from my dried-up

eyes, we are cradled

in your hands, even

when we think we are

falling into fear’s pit.

© 2019 Thom M. Shuman