These Hands

These hands were fashioned for work; these hands are down to earth; These hands have been mingling in the dirt, cleaning the grease and grime and picking up garbage and slime, they pass me on the street honking their horns and staring at me as if I was a bag of garbage scattered out on their lawn; these hands are designed for work and I learn to use them well because I have lots of story to tell. If I am not in my makeshift office, you will find me in the yard sweeping up trash and cutting the grass in the back yard, sometimes I am at the front picking up plastic bottles that are scattered all over the street and in the open lot next door, it is an open dumping ground for fox and wolves that roam the town. These hands have worked in many places; these hands have mingled with all the races; these hands are kind and sometimes they touch the divine. These hands are healing, these hands are warm and loving, and these hands have the magic touch in the fingers and if you come too close you will get a double dose. I sit on the door steps contemplating what to do next; I have heard it all, I have seen it all and there is nothing left to hold on to except the hope that lives inside me, the news of the day can really break your heart especially when you know that you were there from the start, and when I stretch out my hands, and look beyond the sky, I see life moving in front of me and a big vison that is wrapped up into my destiny, I have much to hope for and something big to live for. These hands are strong, and they have a message for everyone. When you are feeling sad, hold your two hands together and examine them carefully, the left hand needs the right hand to complete the task that is bottled up in the heart, look at your hands how beautiful they look, examine the tendon and muscle and every fiber, like the one that is drawn in the science book, All the senses reside in the hands and the longing can be felt in the fingertips, the energy is so strong and when hands meet with hands, it can ignite the heat and burn the forest to the ground. Some people use their hands to steal and to do the wrong deeds, but these hands are full of passion, and they were made to heal. These hands are rough, these hands are tuff, they have written billions and trillions of words on the pages, and they have blessed the human races; these hands are special, these hands are kind; these hands are reserved to touch that special part of your soul; these hands are pure gold.