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Upon My Hands Tara Bridget Moore
Upon My Hands
Upon my hands for which is felt, outlines traced with form and love,
In narrow drifts of rainbow light that plays upon the clouds above.
Whispered voices call the wind, sweet murmurs that resound,
And casts a light that angels pave when clarity is found.
As playful shadows flow and swirl and gentle music fills the air,
No beauty dares to hide her face from radiance of soul laid bare.
For songs have life and voices joy; my hands they praise the skies!
I hear the flutter of the wings in places where the white dove flies.
My fingers trace the contours of petals white and soft,
And move along a tranquil sea,
Where the lotus springs aloft.
Ephemeral in nature and capturing the grace,
Of resurrection and re-birth,
Transcending time and place.
Submerged below this ancient sea,
No muted sun for eyes to see,
Restored to life by Tethys breath,
And resurrection from sure death.
Encircled by a shield of truth; eternity is known,
I reach toward the violet heights where heaven’s souls have flown,
Ascension to the stars above, where mortals only dreamed,
Shielded by a love of truth, my life and soul redeemed.
With seventh sense I touch the skies that fall towards the sea,
And dance upon the rainbow light that mortals seek to free.
By hands that paint a place beyond,
Where peace and life rejoice,
And weds the sacred union of the prayers that I voice.
Transformation now complete with knowledge so sublime,
Bestowed by many blessings through the passages of time.
A gift of life, no losses here, I live with hope and not with fear.
For human nature will dictate that senses rule the mind,
To hide behind a silver veil; the eyes of justice blind.
Forever changed but sadness not, my eyes they truly see,
The sanctity within our hearts, so beautiful to me.
Humanity, divinity, and all the love to be.
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