I stare at my hands.
These hands that toil day in and out.
These tiny little hands that hold a heart so precious,
that if I were to drop it, it would end me.
I think about all the things I have done with them.
Taken and given care, loved and worked.
I think about the things I am going to do.
To wear a ring, to hold my child to walk hand in hand with my lover.
All the things I am ready to do.
I stare at my hands and all I want to do is hold yours.
My tiny little hands match yours.
They fit together.
Two sets of tiny little hands to walk the long road of life.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I have heeded my own advice

Coming back into the fold...

3 years