hands that heal

a poem

even in the cold, I can feel it—
this springing open of my heart
this springing open of my soul
to clear days &
the ways I can write this story
any way I wish

I am the creator–
the all-mother
of my life on these blue days,
cerulean & crisp,
like pages turning
as the clock carries on

even in the dark, I can feel it—
this ringing out
of my desires & wants,
within reach & pure
& blinding me
as my smile fades & sways
& renews

I am the creator,
the hands that heal
my own heart,

the woman I am
destined to be

The Rogue Pen is a free publication. If you enjoyed this piece, please feel free to like, comment, and share. It would mean a lot to me. If you'd like to support my work, you can Buy Me A Coffee. Also, you have the option to purchase my books directly from me. Use code SUBSTACK for a 20% discount on everything in my shop. Thank you for your kindness and support!

---