Alabaster Hands… a poem

monochrome photo of statue

Photo by Alain Frechette on Pexels.com

ALABASTER HANDS

Her alabaster hands looked so delicate and real.

A precision gift crafted in every detail.

Strength comes in many forms,

So, reach out and touch and feel

To keep you safe from harm when there’s a gale.

 

Surely, you can see it there if opened are your eyes.

Beneath the simple stone or rock or clay.

Not so hardened is the heart

To those who seek the wise.

In this, but one small portion of your day.

 

Donatello, in the Renaissance, sculpted into life,

Many forms that still stand firm and tall.

With hammer, and with chisel,

Did he work until he died.

A lesson that to many has been lost.

 

Within us let’s reflect the strength or mercy we portray.

To those here on this earth, we leave behind.

And deep down within each one of us

Before we reach that day,

A hope that it is love that was our guide.

Author: What Words May Come

Hopeless romantic; joker; father and grandfather; husband; sportsman; part-time writer;

2 thoughts on “Alabaster Hands… a poem”

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