Hand of Love, Hand of God
I, Love, feel your pain
and understand your fear.
I’m here as your cane
and will always be near
and here.
I see you dangling
high from cliff of Homeland.
You think rocks you cling,
but holding you is Hand.
Love’s Hand.
I am a stranger to you.
Sometimes you want to know me
and other times you withdrew.
Peace. I hear your quiet plea,
and will set you free.
For the strength of love
is freedom. And as your
hand reaches for love,
the old you that you wore,
is no more.
But this cliff you think
is your home familiar.
You feel on the brink
yet you know not better.
Life’s blur.
Your grip has tired and you scream.
“Something better, please!” you cry.
Your hand awares to my dream.
Your grip strengthens and your eye
rests to my lullaby.
Feeling better you
succumb and engage
to this new stage too.
Until again you rage
for change.
The pain of hanging
is still separating,
but now there’s less divergence,
and more emergence
of love’s sense.
Step by step, rock over rock,
and hand greeting hand, will raise
you above stumbling block.
Each time learning more of love’s praise,
until all love rays.
I understand it takes time
for you to be ready.
I will wait and aide your climb
whenever you are ready.
You’ll know love steady.
I know you’re worthy.
Behind your pain is truth
of love’s potential.
Beauty you are, made aware from trial,
and Love.
I know well enough
to see that past your rough
character is love
wanting to be free.
The love that you be
is the you whom I see.
So I will sit, wait and listen
as your tears and struggles pray,
and I will never, now or then,
tire my grip or lead astray.
Love is here to stay.
And I may duck, dodge or sway
as your angers and pains fray,
but I will never, today
or ever, let go of your hand.
Welcome to Homeland.
Welcome to Love.
Irene Arndt
Blessings,
Irene
Tags: God is always with you, God's Love
