Show Me Your Hands
Show Me Your Hands
Show me your hands,
youth of your day.
When time was eternal
and life was all play.
Show me your hands,
slender and pale,
that dabbed at tears
behind a widow’s veil.
Show me your hands,
that carried no strife,
held all the burdens,
and sheltered a life.
Show me your hands
that caressed and kissed,
the pain of another
that others had missed.
Show me your hands,
that once were strong,
that stood its ground
and righted a wrong.
Show me your hands,
that now are old,
lined and creased
like gloves of gold.
Show me your hands,
I’ll show you a soul,
that tenderly held
a heart made whole.
Show me your hands,
pick up the earth.
Shape its creation,
let it give birth.
7.12.16
Copyright © Daniel Hunter | Year Posted 2018
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