Hands

There are hands that caress me Hands that redress me But the hands I remember most, are gentle and sleek They are the hands that taught me how to speak. The hands that taught me how to sign, Have given me a gift divine From silent isolation Opened a world of communication Hands patiently practiced each intricate move Until at last I understood and could prove Words and meanings, thoughts and actions Flowed from my hands, literal interactions No longer did I have to wait, at last I could communicate My world expands With new demands But never will I ever forget The hands I owe a lifelong debt The hands that taught my hands to sign Those precious hands still guiding mine.