Rachel's Hands

Rachel’s Hands

Rachel’s hands hold the essence of her beauty.
Round and soft, white as dinner rolls
They punctuate her stories with a dance all their own.

Rachel’s hands hold the power to bring a family together
As they knead the dough, stir the pot, peel the vegetables.
Then so carefully she places the dishes on the table
And beckons her family with voice and hands to heat.

Rachel’s hands comfort babies,
Console the ill,
Clap with joy at the accomplishments of her children
And their children.
And theirs.

Her fingers, eager and able
Know by rote the tasks that made them strong
Willing always to share the work
Waving away the tiredness of her body
Clenched in resolve to finish the job at hand.

I love Rachel’s hands when they grasp my own
And hold me tight
And pass to me their strength
And their wisdom.

Keep your manicured, polished, painted hands
That vanish at the whisper of work
And give me hands like Rachel’s
That fashion love from fingertips
And life from palms.