My Two Hands

I have two hands
Of my very own
Both are strong
Able to lift and squeeze
And both are weak
Too soft to do all
That they need.

Yet they are my hands
And they are all I need
(Or so I’ve been led to believe).

In the one I hold the moon
In the other the sun
And between my hands and me
The stars drift for all to see.

And in one hand
I hold my joys
All the bliss
The laughter of my kids
The softness of their cheeks
The comfort of dear friends
And the peace of loving
Filling each finger to the brim.

In the other I hold my sorrow
All my worries and my care
All the darkness that fills the world
All the whirling worry of death and fear
And the stress of loving
Filling each finger to the brim.

And these two hands
So full of dark and light
Come cupped together
And lo! the world is still bright.

See my two hands are my own
And they hold what they hold
And I would not trade my load
From one to the other
But will hold both my handfuls
To bring the light higher,
For when you look beyond me
You would see that I am not alone
For we are many
We two-handed beings
With all our days and nights
All our darkness and our lights.
We are neither one nor the other
But both
and
all
the
dark
and
stars
between.

2 thoughts on “My Two Hands

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