“Communion”
I lay my hands on your head To give you a blessing. Like my ancestors. My three times great-grandmothers Who kneaded dough and then healed. Calling out for god Ministering at bedsides Birthing children Blood and bread All callused knuckles and templed fingers — a cool, soothing touch. You pull my palms down Pushing them into your chest Asking me to reach into you — through you. You cup your hands over mine You breathe in deeply. But this is where it hurts, you say. My heart. Not my head. So we pray over this wound together. That sacred place […]
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