Carefree, she ran into the park to play,
her face uplifted to the sun;
that day …
aware of brewing storms
that etched
the sky,
clutched at a fear
and nursed it.
Then I
saw her hand
outstretched
like a small child;
and while I watched,
Another Hand
reached down and clasped it.
I heard the distant thunder
with a smile.
Taken by permission and adapted from “Ruth Bell Graham’s Collected Poems,” by Ruth Bell Graham. ©1977, 1992, 1997, The Ruth Bell Graham Literary Trust.
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