THESE OLD HANDS
From our first breath until our last
we're touched by many hands
They help us pass through various
and often wondrous lands.
They guide us, teach, offer support
when we have lost our way
They share our pain, our joy and love
as we walk our path each day.
When we reach out to find our hands
are met with others sharing
We learn that we can pass this on
increase the bond of caring.
From our first breath it's mother's hand
which holds us warm and near
From there it's teachers, lovers, friends,
and those who wipe our tears.
And when we breathe our last breath
released from earthly ties
It's the hands of loved ones past
who hold ours as we fly.
~Author Unknown~
 
 
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