Our Hands of Time

In our lifetime, we have at many times,
Held a hand to guides us true.
A baby in a womb so safe,
Holds its own, for comfort and strength.

As a child, our mother’s hand we held,
Father too will lend to us a hand as well.
For many fears and dangers lurk, but
A parent’s hand is the sword that protects.

As a young person, our troubles abound,
Friends become lovers, their hand gentle.
Frustration at words and voices
Seem dulled when shared by that lover.

A middle age wraps us in its comfort times
We sit back and children watch.
The hands we now hold are our children’s
To them we are the protectors.

Old age brings fears anew, memories a blur
The hand we hold is now one of need
A doctor or nurse our carers be
We hold on tight, as we seem to forget

Finally as the trumpet sounds, full circle
A hand so serene in its touch
Calls us home to comfort and rest
The Lord is now the hand that loves and protects.