These Hands

Born into these hands

Small, clumsy masses of atoms 

That try to find balance daily 

These hands that once so small

Wrapped around my parents fingers tightly bound 

And couldn't close

These hands that touched the ground

And found new places to explore

And make some sounds...they'd make some sounds 

 

These hands, these hands, these hands oh 

 

These hands learned to articulate

And create with delicate frustration

When it wouldn't go my way 

These hands that someday

With sweaty, clammy, nervous joy

Found the hands of a boy...then let him go

Cuz these hands grew to know 

The ebb and flow of joys and sorrows

Paper cuts and callouses 

And when they tried to balance this 

It would all slip right through 

These hands can't hold it all…That’s not what they do 

 

These hands, these hands, these hands oh 

 

These hands are for one moment at a time

I try to hold that in my heart and mind 

Because they buzz with such a possibility of what they can do

We add yours and add theirs too it's like, woah

We can actually do something together 

To make this world better 

These hands, these hands, these hands oh  

​

Born into these hands 

Small, clumsy masses of atoms that matter

Daily

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