sometimes these hands are bold
hopeful rare
a leaf fallen to the ground
waiting to be found
these hands are bold
and find in the lines, in the bleeding, blending bursts of hues
a beginning and an end
in the palm of a hand
and sometimes these hands are new
a touch, a taste
the first time
for so many things
thirsty and ready
to hold and fold
wrap around
carry, make a place
where nothing is too much
nothing is out of depth
sometimes these hands are foolish
empty and fallen to sides
where they sway
in the shaking of the ground
or maybe it’s just the heart breaking
that makes that sound
oh what these hands can hold
a leaf, a life
beauty torn and sworn
another’s joy, another’s strife
oh what they can betray
exactly what we fear
exactly who we love
oh these hands
that make a meal
break and steal
wound and heal
they speak and wreak
in strokes a picture comes alive
in colors that form
a story unfolds, on canvass it lays
life portrayed
beauty conveyed
a gift all its own, from hands that guide
the telling of a moving brush
creating the planes of faces, stories, memories
what happens in between careens
these hands are yours
these hands of mine
intertwined
they’ll hold all there is
that there is to give
all that you have, carry and hold
all you want to set free
all you want to keep
all you want to let be
oh what these hands can hold
filled with so many things
it’s cold outside
stay warm with me
a bowl of beauty
when two hands they meet
all that exists in between
life, love actually happening
