Tenderness

You know how a half-buried stone

in the yard will clear all the snow

from around itself, little by little,

leaving only a hollow of warmth

and a cushion of moss you want 

to rest on, until winter finally ends? 

That’s how tenderness works in us, 

some heat rising up from beneath, 

then spreading outward to touch 

the lives of anyone who comes near—

slowly, softly, making a safe place

for them to stand in, melting away

the coldness that gathers around us.

—James Crews