Hold Still and Let Your Hand Melt Into Mine

When anger turns to fear, or nerves reveal themselves, when confusion becomes disbelief, or acceptance starts smelling like wilting flowers, and it’s as if there’s nowhere else to think, nothing else to go (to), cinematic retail therapy would be an epic fail and literature requires too much cerebral focus, I tend to listen to Jars of Clay.

The melodies and lyrics are a comfort without the indoctrination.  I can tap into a frequency that doesn’t require me to offer money, shame, regret, or unrealistic promises.  I can imagine that some”one” has my back, empathizes unconditionally, and this acknowledgement can be just between us two.  I don’t have to convince anyone else of anything because the relationship I have with this “one” is nobody else’s business.

And so I listen to The Eleventh Hour or watch the concert DVD.  And I feel better.

And I’ll fly with you
Through the night so you know
I’m not letting go
I’m not letting go
Tears like rain fill up the sky
Oh my love
I’m not letting go
I won’t let you go

I saw a host of silent angels
Waiting on their own
Knowing that all the promises
Of faith come alive
When you see home
Hold still and let your
Hand melt into mine

Shed your heart and your breath
And your pain and fly
Now your alive.


2 thoughts on “Hold Still and Let Your Hand Melt Into Mine

  1. Pingback: Where You Go I’ll Go, Where You Stay I’ll Stay | Sitting Pugs: Sports Movies

  2. Pingback: Still Pond | Sitting Pugs: Sports Movies

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