Healing Hands (poem)

show the cracks in your armor
call out to God
let the stranger place his hand
on your head

Go walking in your sleep
there’s no salvation in skin color, child
nor should there be any burden there
no promise in your bones

But the healing touch
of another’s hand
can deliver you from the deep
fathoms of your broken heart

let a cool hand
caress your fevered brow
don’t worry after the color
the faith, the culture, the labor
those hands have known

Trust it, feel it, and
Weep for our foolishness
no politicians can save us
only we can

Then let those hands
dry your eyes
and let them clothe you
as you lay your weary head down

Turn off the light
and fall fast asleep in the deep
sleep of someone forgiven, child
rest there knowing your safe