Holding On

by Bonnie Riedinger

Tender fists—
So circinate,
This fetal curl
Of fingers.
What do you clutch
So tightly?

I can wish you the length
Of days
In your right
Hand and riches
And honor in your left.

I will hope
For a handful
Of quietness,
Teach you to fling
The dust of fear
Into the eyes
Of the devil.

I will give
You handfuls
Of lilies to scatter.

But for now,
Show me the infinity in
Your palm
As I unfold
Your fist
And kiss the stigmata left
By your nails.

— from Juniper Volume 2, Issue 3