Content to Be

We fell asleep
His thumb resting on my wrist
Regulating my pulse
To a steady

The image of God’s hand laying on mine
Comes to mind
His palm meeting my open one

How much of my life have I spent
Trying to regulate myself from
Rushed heartbeats
Empty hands
Ever in search for a sense of home

Life is a slowly teaching
That God is my regulator
My attachment
My resting heartbeat

And in Him
I find my soul
content to

BEkah Jane Pogue