Kimberly Vargas Agnese

Holes


Holes 

in his hands…

a hole 

in a cave…

holes 

in my heart-

filled…

Yeshua 

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Published by Kimberly Vargas Agnese

My name is Kimberly Vargas Agnese, though I've previously written as Kae Bucher. I was born in the Florida Keys, but grew up in the Bay Area before migrating south to the San Joaquin Valley. As I ride barefoot around Fresno, I consider the paths I've chosen and the crossroads where our country seems to have perched itself. Thanks to my Romani ancestry, many people groups reside within me and my poetry tends to reflect this. I love welcoming the sunrise with my Native American flute. I've been rumored to juggle while teaching students how to write. And if you can't find me, I'm probably hanging out with Jesus listening to parables.

7 comments

  1. On the way to work today. I raised my hands to praise Jesus. The idea came into my head that His hands (or wrists) have holes in them and He likes to see ours without holes. ‘Jesus take my hands and make them yours.’

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