These hands…
So soft, so frail
So weak, so pale.
Yet strong enough to hold a single finger of mine so tight.
These hands held in front of your face as you really look at them, so foreign to you.
Little do you know, all these hands can do.
These hands gripping wooden trains, gripping our dogs fur, gripping just about anything left on the floor.
These little hands start to explore.
These hands hold snakes and turtles and bright green frogs.
These hands collect rocks and sticks, worms and bugs.
These hands, dirty behind your finger nails,
are open to hold me tight and give me hugs.
These hands build train tracks, hold books and play games
These hands can now finally write your name.
These hands have power behind them
Yet so gentle they pick up the tiniest butterfly.
They move happily when you dance
and can hide the saddest tear in your eye.
These hands of yours, once so foreign to you
You are learning all these hands can do.
These hands now grip the monkey bars
These hands will one day play guitar.
These hands will one day drive a car.
Who knows where to, I hope you don’t move too far.
Yet these hands will hold your passport
To travel to the other side of the world
Far away from home
This world is yours to roam.
These hands will one day hold another woman’s
Then my own hands.
These hands will one day trace the curves of her body
And wear a ring of truth and commitment promising her your love.
These hands will one day hold the hand of your own child
My grandchild
Hands so powerful
Yet gentle enough to hold another hand so soft, so pale…so frail.
These hands will take you places
You had no idea you would go.
These hands will call me
These hands will hold your first grandchild
These hands will guide you throughout your entire life
Bringing you to be all that you can be.
These hands with you
Until your old and grey
These hands of yours are magic
That’s all I have to say
These hands
In the biggest way
Or the smallest way
These hands of yours my little one,
will change the world one day.
