Inspired… a poem


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These hands

These hands once had form without cognition of their use

These hands

These hands once held my mother and father through all kinds of weather – and life

These hands

These hands learned to work as tools to feed and accomplish for me

These hands

These hands coordinated with my eyes to write, count, play, touch and pray

These hands

These hands sent shockwaves of marvelous sensations when they first held hers

These hands

These hands gave meaning to life in the sense of touch on her skin

These hands

These hands taught me the worth of self in providing for the ones I love through their work

These hands

These hands were overcome with love in its truest form when holding my newborn child

These hands

These hands understand that feeling of my mother and father when the first time they felt them in theirs

These hands

These hands attempted but could hold back the tears that fell when I lost my parents

These hands

These hands, now wrinkled and misshapen have seen a lifetime of learning and loving

These hands

These hands that now lay neatly folded against my chest have truly lived – These hands.

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