| written by Oniena Onda A Wyandotte Woman |
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| My hands reach high The arms stretch, They become resilient And reach toward the heavens Until they are translucent Yet they reach more. Though my clay feet stay on the earth My fingers have become part of the heavenly world, To caress the cheeks of angels. Whether I fall Whether I walk Whether I lay down, My soul has become Part of the spiritual world To blend with the elements of time. |
| Spiritual Hands and Clay Feet |
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