Hands That Learned to Give

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I came to life beneath a quiet sky,

A restless heart enclosed within my chest,

I walked through crowds of unfamiliar eyes,

Yet none would stay, nor offer warmth to me.

****

I reached for love like branches seek the sun,

But every hand withdrew before my touch,

I knocked on doors that echoed back as stone,

And silence answered all I tried to give.

****

I cursed the world for being cold and still,

For hearts that would not open when I came,

Yet never once did I unbind my own,

Nor let my guarded soul be truly seen.

****

I gave in parts, but always held the rest,

Each kindness weighed against a hidden need,

No word was free from want or secret claim,

No act of love escaped my careful grasp.

****

And so the fields lay barren where I walked,

No bloom would rise from seeds I would not free,

For love, like rain, will never fall for those

Who beg the sky yet will not loose their hands.

****

One day I stood beside a withered tree,

Its branches bare, yet reaching all the same,

It asked for nothing from the passing wind,

Yet gave its shade to all who wandered near.

****

Then slowly did a deeper truth take root:

That love is not a thing to take or keep,

It lives in giving freely, like the light

That spills from dawn and asks for no return.

****

So now I stand with nothing in my hands,

No silent bargains resting in my heart,

And in that loss, a quiet freedom grows-

The kind that comes when one begins to give.

****

For we are bound by what we try to hold,

And freed by all we offer without claim,

When love is given, empty, pure, and wide,

The world will answer back with living grace.

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