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.
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