Hands

By Ayisha Saniya Ambalavan

There is a romance

Found in the clay between the potters hands

And seen in the ink

Spilled on paper by a desperate poet's hands 

Savored in the hot meal

Made by a loved ones hands

Etched into wood, or metal

Each curve, devoted by a crafter’s hands

And even in the mouth of a gun

We find passion held in a freedom fighters hands

It is woven in the strands of hair

A plait formed with generations of woman's oil stained hands

If you look carefully at the stitches in blankets, and dresses 

you will find an intimacy in the threads from a weavers hands

These hands are filled with such care and love

Give us warmth and hold everything together

Yet a little more pressure

And you will find how easy it is to take than give

How delicate we are - we break 

How easy it is to die than live

So I hope you are aware of how loud your hands speak.

By Ayisha Saniya Ambalavan