I found my home
within his heart –
the same heart
that flowed
with living blood,
pulsing, beating,
a muscle, a rose,
a body made real,
seeded by God.
And now, that heart
is silent.
For many years since,
I have found my home
in his silence,
in the emptiness
of the cave,
in the long, quiet path
between the questions
and the answers,
between reaching for his touch
and feeling his fulfillment –
his hands, once more,
upon me, decades
after his death,
his hands made of sun
still resting upon
my grieving, luminous heart.
Source: Found online.
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