I wonder
What will this hand do?
Surely it will hold a spoon
And pen.
Most likely it will strike a sibling,
And then rest, curled on a hip,
In defiance of Mommy.
But oh, I wonder about these kissable fingers,
What else?
Will they fly across keys,
Making music that causes my heart
To soar?
Could this hand possibly write out mathematical figures
I don't know exist?
Or grip with incredible strength
A mountaintop?
Oh sweet baby hand,
Will you someday stroke a troubled head,
Soothing a troubled soul?
And what if, oh what if!
A young man holds it
(I can hardly imagine!)
And sweeps her off her feet
And out of our home
But never our hearts.
And what if that hand
Will one day hold another tiny hand
As she wonders
The same things I wonder
But for right now
I thank the Lord
That you are
Who you are
Just the way you are
Right now.
My precious baby's hand.
No comments:
Post a Comment