Hands Tell A Tale..

In my hands  my little son  found solace

rocking and singing he became calm

that be the beginning of my hands association .

 

Holding my hands my son got across

with a feeling secure he went about

that be the preliminary take of my hands.

 

Holding his hands I taught him to write

write did he with figures small and big

that was the secondary level  of the hands of mine.

 

 

The hands that moulded him to the perfection

the way he grew up under its protection

that be the third degree connection of my hands.

 

The time has come for him to move

taking the hands of mine he goes forward

a final  position of my hands with him.

 

Seeing my hands now I find

they be worn out with wrinkles around

shaky they are fit to end up the  strive.

 

Well, they were the same hands long back

robust and strong full of life

soft and tender  as a petal.

 

The hands have told you a story

that of being the tale of every mother

those born before, living now  and going to be  born .