Hands lay still, palms up as if waiting
to receive a gift, her soul silent
reflecting the moment
The hands tell the story of life,
of love, loss, strength and weakness
Her eyes brighten through the
haze, a smile fills her face
The hands move with life once again,
nervous movement fades
the hands become silent again...
Hands are everything
The flower of life
to give, to receive
welcome with respect, the touch
10/25/2006 B.
For Zelda
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