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Click hereten little fingers closed
in comfort around a golden strand
a call and response
for need and nurture
a passive hand but an active eye
and a twitch, just mechanical
still just instinct,
a call and response
but so much like
a concerned frown
of knowing somehow
what is
and was
and could
that i trigger
a call and response
of my own
and let the avalanche well up
to flood my lungs with winter
active eyes
and ten little fingers
around golden strand
let go of comfort
in something more than
a call and response
to pull me back up
to save me again
keeping at bay
an ice age of what is
and was
and could
An endearing picture ~ a tiny baby's fingers grasping a Mother's hair.
The helplessness of that special creature - the parent - ever vigilant to a baby's never ending needs.
Good, bad, happy, sad...
Raw and real and definitely moving. All extremes of emotion are present and the confusion adds to the clarity somehow. Beautiful words, beautiful heart.
~lucky
the incredible power of life, new life. In tiny fingers the world is held. You express it so well here, the deep emotion in your words shines a light, melts the ice. gripping poem, well done.
jim : )