Little Hands

Little Hands 

First day of school

Clasp tight their mommy's fingers

Afraid and curious

Wonderful spirit

Hiding the bashful world

From bright, beautiful eyes

Their first day to celebrate

The rest of their lives

Innocence knowing no boundaries

But unconditional love

Life a gift to share

It is not these fingers

To feel yet the pain

Not to know 

The scars of parents hands

To learn the contradictory

Ways of the world

Or suffer the loss and limits

Of an empty, desperate life

Little Hands

Grown numb

Bearing the imprint

Of their mother's soul

And the warm press

Of hope and dreams

Yet to be fulfilled

Tiny fingers

Of Little Hands

Curled about

Daddy's big thumb and index

Trusting totally

In whatever may come

Flower blossoms

Bearing the dreams of tomorrow

From the pangs of parents' past

Lost

Little Hands

Tiny fingers

Reaching out

For a familiar touch

Wandering sprites

Lost within the woods

Misbegotten by chance

Knowing not the way

Back home

The night hangs dark and heavy

The day does not come

Too soon

With only the stars

And moon

To point the way

The day's lesson learned so well

All things between heaven and earth

As dear as they are temporary