These Two hands

There are changes in the weather 

that lives in my eyes; 

we will experience a high chance of storm 

but still, 

the sun will shine. 

The sun will shine where your soul has hidden away from for sometime. 

These hands are our shelter 

delicate, but firm 

the lines tell you stories of all you could live for, 

and how we could grow to learn them like the map of our universe. 

For now, you have gone astray, 

like a leaf amidst the wind, spiralling out of reach, 

and I only hope you will not forget the contours of these fingers, 

these cuticles that don’t quite fit around the nails 

from bad habits that cannot be broken. 

I forgave the tornado, 

when I learnt its ways and learnt to appreciate 

the beauty of destruction; 

I looked in, I sat in the centre of the tornado 

and heard its hum, 

calm and peaceful amongst the forces that churned and unwound. 

These hands are still your shelter by the way 

no matter which way you wish to run 

and the paths will hopefully 

lead you to where you wish to be held again. 

these hands are shaking tremendously, but they will still carry you 

and still do their best, 

to catch rain.