Healing Hands

His head, pressed lightly into mine and his Healing hand across my
back
Carried all his gentle concern
And forgiveness to
My wounded parts inside.

Within a soft enveloped whole
Of silence
And the fragrance of that day
I lay
Within the warm cradle
The realty of his devotion,
Realty of backed emotion.
His love for me unhurried.

Held on tight, but held no grief
And asked me what the evil's
Name had been.

I couldn't answer for I didn't know
Now I do, but he is gone,
Gone where ?
The world has many places of light

I've never heard a voice so strong
Dispel all wrong
Yet tender, loaded
With compassion, weighted thick
With power, good and truth;

I didn't know how I could paint
A portrait of the pain within
Impart the shapes into his eyes
He knew its colour anyway

His healing hands just eased it for a while and
Since that day I've yearned for nothing else
To rest within his safe embrace
I've gasped and longed to have that
Feeling -
Healing and rest.