February 24, 2017
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“What's wrong with your hands?”
The number of times
I've been asked this is
Nothing is wrong with my hands
I see my hands as a beautiful
My hands
Have held my grandfathers hands
Until his last breath
My hands have surrounded people like a
Full of strength for those who needed it
My hands
Have healed broken hearts
My hands
Have fed the homeless
My hands
Spread love like wildfire
My hands
Held a baby that became
One of
Gods Angels
My hands
Have wiped off tears of sadness
My hands
Have given more than they have
My hands
Have filled the emptiness
My heart endures
With affection
And love
My hands
Have felt the heartbeat of the person
I once loved
Take a moment
Close your eyes
Feel your hands
The unique texture
Rough edges
Imagine what our hands have felt
What your hands have done
Your hands
Have felt
Your hands have felt
How the wind presses up softly against them
How the cold gives you tingles of excitement
How the warmth fills you up
How water is like silk
Those are your hands
So delicately beautiful
So uniquely mysterious
My hands have prayed for someone
My hands have healed
My hands are beautifully and wonderfully made
My hands can grow compassion
Like tulips blossoming in springtime
My hands are the seedlings the future
My hands hold kindness
My hands hold happiness I give

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