The Hearts Messengers

Hands are the messengers of what the heart does hold,

Lined hands that hold a cool cloth to fevered brow,

Fingers that grasp the tissue, so softly wiping tears as they fall.

Compassion and empathy are the messages clearly shown.

Hardened palms that know well a life of work,

By hands that have scratched a life from the earth.

Those same hands tenderly tuck small children into bed.

Strength and tenderness in balance his convictions of the heart.

Calloused fingers that dance upon musical strings,

And hands with fingers that write in rhythm all the heart has held.

To share the beauty seen all around and wisdom imparted, too,

The Artist and the dreamer’s hearts flow forth in lovely harmony.

A surgeon’s steady hand holds his scalpel ready,

His healing heart will guide him in each and every cut.

His hands are sure, encompassing his hearts desire to heal,

As from earliest remembering this is what he wanted to be.

Hands are the messengers of what the heart does hold,

For by what and how a person touches life,

They surely will be known. And as the saying goes we know,

By their deeds and actions their hearts will truly be known.