My Mother's Hands.

Not because of silver and gold

Not because of jeweled bands

Not just because they're soft and bold

Did I love my mother's hands

But because those hands once held me

tenderly close to her breast

and because those hands would point me

to the path she knew was best

My mother's hands so gladly labored

her hands were seldom still

never seeking her own self or favored

giving always her free will

But the thing with so much beauty

as she tended to each care

was her source of strength for duty

my mother's hands were hands of prayer

And my mother's hands would teach me

what is right and what is wrong

always willing to help me be

the person she raised to be strong

No matter how far I would travel

or how great the sights or grand

there was nothing to make me marvel

like my mother's tired hands

Praying hands can reach her children

when they've gone so far away

a mother knows that God will reach them

as she folds her hands to pray

Oh how I miss my mother's hands

as she lives with the angels today

I'd cross oceans, hills and other lands

just to see her again and hear her pray

But knowing she's in a heavenly place

where mothers are a chosen kind

her hands a flower with a flower's grace

gives me such hope and peace of mind

Till then I'll wait for that gentle touch

and listen to her prayers in the wind

in my heart I'll hold and tightly clutch

till I see my beautiful mother again

© Susie Swanson, 2018

Happy Mother's Day !!