Her soft, graceful hand in mine, entwines
My heart confused, it gratefully declines

In a circle we position and stand
Among family and strangers in hand

The holy room falls silent but for a instant
A slow rumble of words, only of pure intent

Powerful words to keep me safe, softly spoken
Without warning my being is instantly broken

Hands tighten their clasp In the process of natural transformation
As tears fall, Material objects and pre- conceptions cheapen

An overwhelming sense of belonging
Engulfs my soul into a new beginning

I think of those prayers we were part of, in hours of darkness
I wonder if she recites them? In whole heartedness.

I tingle now as I write these words
It’s a sign from ‘Him’ that we always were