Hands

I cannot stand by and be silent about all that I see in this world. Here is what I feel:

Hands
born innocent
clear, clean
flesh, blood, skin, bone

a hand raised to touch
the blade of a finger
strokes a cheek
a face beloved

a hand raised to fight
the blade of a finger
squeezes a trigger
hits a target
a face detested

I see hands open
clutching
to life, to love
hands reaching out
to comfort, to help, to heal, to hold

I see hands closed
clenched in fists
clenching rocks, knives, guns, bombs

hands are innocent
the skin they are wrapped in
various shades of white, grey, or black
they did not start a war

hand of mother touching child
hand of father teaching child

hands of lovers
igniting passion and joy

hands of fighters
igniting fires and hate

hands an ocean away
hands in our own backyard

so many things
our hands can do
hands can
become saviors
can become healers
can become love

hands can
become fists
can become weapons
can become war

it’s up to us
what our hands will do
the choice is ours
the choice is your

PoetrySarahHands, Love, poetry, hate