Two hands:
one holding flame, one holding ash;
one holding grief, one holding mercy;
one holding the wound, one holding the balm.
The world kept asking me to choose—
flame or shadow,
silence or song,
the wound or the healing.
Life kept offering one hand or the other,
as though the heart were made for lesser choices.
But mercy came quietly,
placing fire in one palm
and shadow in the other,
teaching me at last
that some truths
are carried together.
May 26
May 26, 2026 at 8:23 AM UTC
Two hands:
one holding flame, one holding ash;
one holding grief, one holding mercy;
one holding the wound, one holding the balm.
The world kept asking me to choose—
flame or shadow,
silence or song,
the wound or the healing.
Life kept offering one hand or the other,
as though the heart were made for lesser choices.
But mercy came quietly,
placing fire in one palm
and shadow in the other,
teaching me at last
that some truths
are carried together.
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