the quiet panic of touching a loved one's hand and feeling only the texture of skin, not the warmth of connection

The Light Waits Within Your Cold Hands

The sun is rising, but your hand feels cold against theirs. You trace the lines of their skin, yet the warmth you remember seems to have slipped away in the night.

It is a quiet panic to hold someone so close and feel so far apart. But notice—the light does not depend on your ability to feel it.

What you are looking for has already come, even if your hands cannot sense it yet. The connection was not broken by the silence; it was simply waiting for you to stop searching outside and remember what lives within.

You are not disconnected. You are the light that bridges the gap.

Drawing from

Gospel of Thomas 51, Gospel of Thomas 70

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