Ode to Hands

Hands are not simply objects placed on display. They are not destructive images or thoughts. They are not words or their meanings. Hands don’t talk, because you don’t listen. Hands are tools. They squirm with work to be done. Hands do things much more important than that of just speaking duties. They act in ways that help others succeed. They speak to souls in need, helping those unable or unknowing. Having thin lines and wrinkles that hum along to the songs of time.  Hands speak. They talk to souls that are willing to listen and they regard those unwilling. They teach, and they learn. They show age and wisdom. With each falling sand there are fingernails that slowly wear away, leaving the memories of service that’s kind. Hands are love. They have with them the ability to regard all of humanity in a beautiful way, and hold the entire world inside of them. They see everything around them, but only take what they need. They are charity. Hands carry out the emotions of our lives. They are the actions of our hearts.