I looked and saw for the first time today
My mothers hands
I'd seen them before of course
Yet, today as she passed me a cup
I saw her hands
I saw the paper thin skin
The wrinkles created by wear
The work that had made them crumpled
The love that made them soft
Her long fingers remain
Yet pain courses along with the blood
Gnarled joints reveal her time spent
Working, mothering, caring, loving and soothing
One day my hands will map my life
Just as hers do
But my hands won't match the
Pain, sorrow, hard work or
Mothering.