These Hands, These Hands

These Hands, These Hands I have seen hands like this before In every size and color Hands that are parched and withered Strong hands, tired hands Hands that can bear any load Hurting hands that are calloused And bent, yet these hands can be Gentle as a kitten’s paw Ready and able to hold and heal. I have seen hands like this before In upscale bistros and small-town cafes Stashing meager tips for the American dream. I have watched as these hands Hawk “The Herald” For pennies on the dollar Shovel coal into buckets And black death into their lungs. I have seen hands like this before Hands of everyday heroes Carrying bodies from burning towers Pulling girder after girder From twisted wreckage, Hands that wipe away dirt and ash To salute a tattered flag with pride Determined to stand tall In the face of terror. I have seen hands like this before Caring hands that teach and guide Encourage and praise, Motherly hands nurturing, holding Rocking, gently disciplining without ever harming, Hands always willing to reach out And help their fellow man Always ready to volunteer. I have seen hands like this before Hands that create masterpieces Deliver hope and build nations Hands that with hard work And determination grow stronger Each time they reach out to others To protect, pardon or applaud Hands of the working man Hands of the mother and father Hands of teachers, doctors, nurses Laborers, soldiers and farmers Hands of waitresses, secretaries Firemen and police Hands that give comfort and aid Hands that heal our pain And join together in prayer Hands that touch our lives In simple but profound ways. These hands, these hands These loving, generous hands Never resign, always giving These hands are your hands and mine.