An open hand.

Fluid, adaptable, alive.

A symbol of protection,

grace, creation.


Miriam,

Fatima,

Mary,

all pointing

to the same essence.


Fingers downward.

The cosmos descends

to take shape in form.


The hand holds an eye,

awake,

seeing through the veil.

Imagination rises,

each thread, each fold

witnessed.

A jellyfish appears,

its soft, floating

ancient form

echoes the hand,

moving by feeling.

Floating

through silence,

through light,

through time,

the soul rises,

untethered,

luminous,

free of weight,

yet held by all.


Like warm water,

flowing through hands,

every piece a quiet echo,

a song of love,

released

in the world of matter.