Each stands alone but together, a swirling vortex of waves, singing of relatives long gone, hands held, hearts won. Foreign languages echo, laughter bubbles, songs drift.
Gathering conjures a hand, and a life. Closed comforter on a rainy night, safe and dark. Open fast lane drive, truth proclaiming, fingers reaching.
Days solitary like fingerprints form years, years life. Choosing closed fist or open palm, stamping an incomparable mark on life incomplete without us. Palms cradle free will, unfurling to Divine purpose.
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