Grandmas Hands

Grandma’s Hands You wish me plenty good things Your safe travels and good fortune I rightly claim Your purpose and plan you’ve acclaimed Your poise and gentle grace , angelic Your only spoon of rice you gave your grandchild Carried her in the mud to the schoolhouse Your thin, petite frame is unmatched and superb Your humor tickle the sole of her feet I shall mourn and set myself free My tears are genuine You hold my warm hands with a mighty grip You embrace my patient feet with good faith Your eyes see further than mine We were silent and stood still as God struck fury unto the earth Lightening dared split the building in to two But we endured Our strength lie within Tears in your eyes A frown is your smile I’m a butterfly and a sunflower I thrive on the outside We serve a mighty God You’ve walked alone Miles on foot Loaf cake and root vegetable In the basket over your head Value you give currency but not praise Catered to a traveler that sweet home cooking Rice and beans, vegetable stew As a baby they called me mini you You sang a song many a times An English translation won’t do its job Holdfast in your work in Jesus Christ The journey comes with difficulty We shall suffer along our journey When Satan ravages the land We’ll be saddened But with Jesus there is victory You too, have sang Jesus has risen from the grave After three days ascends to heaven That is what gives me assurance That is what gives you assurance He gives me eternal life That which I cannot buy She’s put out many a fire From sour grapes and bitter melon To burnt toast and popcorn With gentle hands raised-up Folded and clapping hands His name she magnifies Her able knees to the ground And her eyes closed , leaving all behind Her daughter, my mother , sewed uniform and dress clothes And stitches holes in abandoned garment Much has changed Daily you are challenged I’ve arrived but you’re departing Few words in between your breaths Your hands trimmer Your tongue and lips, too Parkinson’s they call it Your veins are large and puffy Your spine visible to the eye You complain and whine Sit for a while , you say to me Turn me over Push me to the side Raise my head up high But I must tend to other things Got to find a way out of the maze I most certainly will In Jesus name Marckincia Jean Narrative 07/12/19