THE HOLDING OF HANDS
By Sherwin Sleeves
@sherwinsleeves on Instagram - visit this account to follow or experience more of this poet's work!

 
When I was a child, I held hands with everyone I met.
My parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins,
The hands of teachers and friends and children nearby.
I would walk down shopping isles and take people’s hands
Until one took mine back.
When I was five, my handholding days came to an end,
When I was told I was getting too old for the holding of hands,
And for many years I lived a life without the holding of hands
Until I had a child of my own, and the moment my son began to walk,
He took my hand and I began to live that way again.
And this is to say, that the very last thing I plan to do on Earth,
Is hold someone’s hand.
I hope it is my wife’s hand, or my son’s hand, or both their hands.
But it might be the hand of a nurse, somewhere,
Or the hand, even, of a stranger
In a shopping isle.
But if there is no one there, I will hold my own hand.
And that will be the hand of the boy I once was;
We will take one last walk together
Into the heart of the heart the country;
“There is only the holding of hands”, I will tell him,
“There is only
The holding
Of hands.”
 
 

 As always,
Live and Die Heartfully, Dear Friends, or, at least, may they be all you hope for them to be!
With Love,
Rev. Maya

Here is the poem I shared with my Hospice Team today, and my wishes for you below it. The poem is called HOPE, by the fabulous John Roedel.
If you like what you read, you can visit his website and purchase his work HERE.

Take a soft breath, and allow Roedel's words to gift you whatever it may be you are in need of right now, for I think they might have that power if you let them. . .


HOPE
 
~ John Roedel 
 
 
I have been carrying hope
in my pocket like it was
polished gemstone for years

whenever trouble came
I’d squeeze hope tightly
in my shaking hand

and I could feel
it bump against my
palm like a newborn
heartbeat

that’s how
I knew that
I was safe

recently though,
I somehow lost my hope

I have no idea if I put it down
somewhere or if it slipped out
while I was fumbling for my keys

without being able
to hold onto hope

I soon became lost myself

after a while of wandering
in the wild on my own

I bumped into hope
   ~ who looked so different

Hope was no longer a
little gemstone that could
Fit in my pants pocket

hope was a now a wide stream
cutting through the woods

“I thought I lost you!” I admonished

the river grabbed a couple of
rainbow trout and used them
to smile at me

“lost me?” The water babbled.  “That’s impossible!”

“Well, one minute I was holding onto you and the next you were gone.”

“I needed to change forms,” Hope replied.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because you’ve been carrying me for so long that I decided we should try something different.”

“What’s that?”

“I thought I would take a turn carry you for a bit.”

The river rose
Up around me

and pulled me gently onto
my back

I was floating

I didn’t realize how exhausted I was
until the river held me

And Hope carried me
And Hope carried me
And Hope carried me

and now whenever trouble
comes

I just spread my arms open
and let hope wrap me up in
her slow water

and I can still feel it
pulse against me like a
newborn heartbeat

that’s how
I know that
I’m safe

I don’t know where
we are going

hope and I
still appear to
be lost

but at least we
are together

   maybe we will stay lost out
here for a while longer

   funny enough, I’m in no rush
to get to our destination

because it has been so long
since I’ve felt held by anything

and I think I could really
get used to it

------------------------------------------
 
And now I (Maya) say to you:

Fall back on that stream or river of Hope
Put down your bags
. . . And the bags you carry for everyone else. . .
And let Hope carry YOU.
 
Notice how your breath slows and deepens - it is so good to be held.
All of us need this.
Notice, when you allow it, how your muscles and joints soften and invite blood flow.
Notice how aches and pains more easily release.
 
We often cling to idea that hope comes from some future thing
But Hope is there for us, and finding it is sometimes as easy as just laying back
And letting it carry us.
 
So, may Hope carry you today, may it be
the silent current of inner wealth beneath you
as you walk through whatever comes.
May you know you are held - and carried - even without knowing the destination - on the river of Hope's steady, gentle flow.
 
Hand on belly, hand on heart
to anchor the sense memory.

Amen.
Ashe.
Aho.
May It Be So.

Live Heartfully, Friends.
Love Always,
Rev. Maya