Raw Hands by Arthur Skip Maselli These hands can deliver a baby Or be used to write a poem Our hands can join another’s and together build a home. They can exhume a child, buried alive beneath a tomb of rubble, Or they can hold a candle steady Or fan the flames of trouble. I can use these hands to dig a grave To embrace the families of the dead Or throttle another’s life in vengeance Perhaps a trigger pulled instead. They can pen a declaration To stop or start a war I can clench them into mighty fists Or open them in succor. I can point a finger at another For his poverty or his wealth, Or I can turn a page in humility And point a finger at myself. See, my hands are just like yours Born empty, pressed in prayer All applaud their promised land, But, in the end it’s all our hands, .........whose deeds will lead us there.
Posted on: Sun, 20 Jul 2014 19:57:37 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015