(fourteen lines)
Their faces and tiny fingers filled my cupped hands
but, they're all grown now...on their own, they strive to stand
and hold shape...further from my warm hands...
still, they're shielded from whatever is harmful out there
rain or shine, they're raised high, safe from murky water
somehow, it seems, i can't contain them much longer
but...they don't have to know
carefully, quietly, i will have to let go
here...today... i open my palms wide
my fears, my reservations, i put aside
and from my cupped hands, down...they glide
like toddlers, shrieking while they slide
spilling continuously...like sand
leaving me...with empty hands.
Sally
*****
Copyright June 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan