Tuesday, September 03, 2013

♥ Her Hands

Her Hands

  Her hands held me gently from the day
I took my first breath.
Her hands helped to guide me
as I took my first step....

Her hands held me close when the tears
would start to fall.
Her hands were quick to show me
she could take care of it all.

Her hands were there to brush my hair,
or straighten a wayward bow.
Her hands were there to comfort the hurts
that didn't always show.

Her hands helped hold the stars in place,
and encouraged me to reach.
Her hands were there in prayer for me
because she always believed.

Her hands are now twisted with age
from pain and years of work.
Her hands now need my gentle touch
to rub away the hurt.

Her hands are more beautiful today
than anything can be.
Her hands are the very reason
of how I came to be."

~Maggie Pittman

photo source: Timothy Hamilton Flickr
Print Friendly and PDF

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.