The Healer’s Hands (Poetry Block 30)

Hands that burn

Hands that sin

Hands that earn

Hands that give

Hands that build up

Hands that tear down

Hands that hold life

Hands that wear out

Hands that never give up

Hands that fight

Hands so beautiful yet rough

Hands that work without limitations

Hands that face age

Hands that protect through devastation

Hands that rejoice with praise

The healers’s hands

Powerful and strong

Yet so fragile an instrument

In such storms remain in prayer and calm


Poet’s Thoughts:

I remember when I was little I would play with my grandmother’s (pita) skin. I would pinch the skin and it would stay in place then I would flatten it again. I would put my hand against hers and study the differences wondering what all her hands have done. Every inch of us, whether it’s our skin or our bodies, etc. tells a story. Each story tells something different and worth remembering. 

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