Healing Hands – Original Poem

By Mark A. Leon

Words can heal

They have the power to rise up and overcome the darkness of times

Conquering moments, treading storms, lifting us up to the clouds and giving wings to fly

A beacon of light

Will these words stop the rain and bring sunlight to these worn faces?

The storms; the shadowy clouds; the vicious lightning striking us to our knees?

Not alone

Not without the power of the minds

The profound truth found in the earliest scriptures

It is written to love thy neighbor and do good to others

We are but an unfinished mold formed in the shape of the artist, but self-directed with intellect to continue to smooth out the edges

An artist’s model far from a masterpiece

This is where we must look within and break out

Destroy the outer layer and continue from within

The clay is worn from centuries of decay 

Dark and distorted 

It is but a glimmering memory of the vision of perfection

We have the power to reshape in the eye of our maker and bring pride 

Mold with these hands

Hands that hug

Direct with these words

Words of invitation and acceptance

Dry with the heat of a billion hearts

We can

We will

We must heal this sculpture

Photo Credit: Mark A. Leon