it was only a moment

for most, it could’ve slipped

unnoticed

through hurried fingers

endless grasping

too busy for the ordinary

but i can’t call it that

for it wasn’t.

ordinary, I mean.

your tiny hands

they cradled my face

and i was moved

propelled, even,

to stillness

how natural it all seemed

the tenderness

the affection

those hands of yours

not yet awakened

to the endless dramas of this life

held - instead-

something everlasting

you see,

Love took over

and filled the willingly vacant vessels we became

in that moment

I, too, was the baby

that came

empty - in hand

and all notions of myself-

and would leave empty just the same

and yet

there we were

frozen in the most extraordinary of moments:

empty hands

and filling hearts

tethered only to

the unchanging hand of God

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