Visual Poem - My Hands...

     My Hands

                                         
                                 My

                         hands

                 are such

  Wondrous inventions, their power of unique dimensions

They clasp and hold on tight or share a caress delicate and light

Feather soft, iron fist, my hands are full of such extremes

My hands are much more than they might seem

    These hands weave my dreams



                       Fingers so supple and slender

                     Fingertips sensitive and tender

                     The delicate skin still remembers

                        Soothing silk and warming embers
  

                               My hands play between such extremes

                                      Twisting with tension or playing in sand

                                            Shaping a future to match my dreams


                                                Fashioned by the ultimate architect

                                                   To express my soul and to protect

                                                 Flexing now, reaching for things

                                               Tendons are the puppet strings



                                    These hands weave my dreams
 
                              My hands are much more than they might seem

                            Palms open in gratitude or clenched in a brooding mood

                            Hands dancing on air, sharing secrets with innocent savoir faire

                              Palms lined by a life of joy and strife, love and surrender

                                             My hands

                                                      hold

                                                   Me