With a Gentle Hand-Mystic
with a gentle hand, Wynter,
brush your curls,
and don’t forget—
knot your braids tight
so the wind don’t snatch your shine.
with a gentle hand,
hold the butterfly—
be soft with the small things.
but don’t forget,
even wings push back
when the storm comes blowing.
with a gentle hand,
share your candy, your jokes, your light.
but keep one fist closed,
‘cause not everybody claps for you—
some folks just waitin’ to take.
with a gentle hand,
abuela stirred the beans slow,
then stitched hems straight,
needle sharp, steady rhythm—
and still kept tricks of the trade
to throw chancletas
or hold it down if need be.
gentle, but tough—
that’s the recipe.
Wynter,
the world gon’ test you.
they’ll call you sweet,
then try to eat you alive.
they’ll call you weak,
then be shocked
when you stand.
so hold both—
the open palm and the closed fist,
the rose petals and the thorns,
the “yes, ma” voice
and the “don’t play with me” stare.
with a gentle hand,
you gon’ flip pages and flip tables,
you gon’ hold babies and hold your ground,
you gon’ bless the block
and check the block—
same hand, same heart.
and Wynter,
never forget—
soft don’t mean breakable.
gentle don’t mean less.
with a gentle hand,
you can lift mountains,
you can fight, you can love,
you can be all of it—
loud, sweet, unshakable.
Copyright © Windy Martinez | Year Posted 2025
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