THESE HANDS
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.
Kevin Parish 
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