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Holding Hands
In childhood we learned the comfort of our hand being held;
The sign of protection and silent love from this simple act.
Young lover's first explorations, an old couple's silent glue;
Sitting in those rocking chairs, watching traffic, holding hands.
In a moment of hardship, a friends hand to hold blesses the soul;
Two men meeting, shaking hands firmly, the bond of community.
Yet, lost in the present day, it seems, is that simple pleasure;
Of two dear friends or lovers, just sitting, silently holding hands.
I can remember the first girl that I truly held hands with to this day;
It was forth grade, my palms were wet with sweat, nervously shaking.
She reached out to me with a cool, delicate, and gentle peace;
Smiling into my eyes, saying nothing, just smiling, and holding hands.
Time has passed sometimes too quickly, people have came and gone;
The simple act of shared presence anchors me in the harbor of hope.
Remembering the parade of friends, family, and loves with fondness;
Each with the memory burned into my mind of just sitting, holding hands.
21Jul09
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