Healing Hands
A poem about the gift of healing that subsides when spoken about too often rather than just being utilized.
As soon as I tell someone to
behold the power in my hands it seems to
Cease working and
Disappear leaving no
Evidence that it once
Flowed freely as my
Gift to the world to
Heal the sick and discouraged
Igniting their faith and watching the
Joy on their faces
Knowing I served a purpose in this
Life that is not
My choice but a calling to be
Near to the hurting and suffering
Opening my arms to the
Poor and broken on a
Quest for
Relief from their
Suffering and
Tribulations that I somehow
Understood and one touch was like
Volts of electricity as I
Watched healing in progress like a
Xylem providing nourishment and now I
Yearn for the power to return like a
Zealous child awaiting Christmas morning
About the Creator
Cheryl E Preston
Cheryl is a widow who enjoys writing about current events, soap spoilers and baby boomer nostalgia. Tips are greatly appreciated.
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Comments (2)
Lovely heartfelt words of poetry.
Wow nice work!!🥰🥰