My Hands

I look at my hands
To see the many miles
My life has put on them....

The childhood
With toys trucks, bikes and sleds
Dirt, rocks and trees to climb....

The teenager, swimming the river
With beach of sand
Feeling the soft touch, of a girl
While holding hands....

A young man, with tools of work
While walking this earth
Of all its land....

A sandpaper touch
Or a babies smooth skin
The hot and cold water of life
Some of it planned....

Or the feel of the dirty world
As you sweep away
The dust of the land....

The scars I see
The memories they bring
Some scars run deep
Some into your soul....

These hands have seen death
These hands have loved
These hands have worked
These hands have held new life....

With these hands I have said goodbye
To also say hello....

The many miles
These hands have seen
Make me tired sometimes....


They help me up
When I fall down
Dust me off, to go again

So I can add more memories
For my eyes to see
My hands to hold....


Michael Vandyke C@ 2018