Hands that Hold
Hold Gratitude
In one hand
And Grief
In the other.
It’s the way
To live happy,
They said.
That makes sense,
I thought.
So I did.
And it worked.
I pressed on,
Full hands
And a smile.
Till more Grief piled
On
And on
And on.
Faster
And harder
Leadweight.
Crushing
And pressing,
I could carry
No more;
All in
Was the only
Way.
With two hands
Required
For Grief’s massive
Load, soon
Gratitude
Fell
Out of reach.
Now both hands
To bear
The burden
Of Grief.
Yet still, Oh!
Too much
To hold.
Oppressive
So heavy
No vision
Just pain.
No temper
To balance
The load.
No more!
I can’t do this
I crumble
And Fall.
I have to
Let go
Of it All.
I crash to
My Knees
Grounded by
Grief,
Hands fin’lly
Free
Of the load.
Grasping
for Gratitude–
Dropped
Long before–
I find that
The Grief
Did not Fall.
At last I
See
The hands
Under mine
Ever ready
Inviting:
Let Go
All is held
I am held
All along
By those hands.
Always
The hands
With the scars.
October 19, 2026
© 2026 by Hilarie Hicks Robison