This is a poem that my mother wrote about my brother when he was three weeks old. I feel it captures both a mothers love and hopes for her newborn child.
Two little hands
Clasped as if in prayer
Hands so young, yet so formed.
What has life in store
For these small hands?
Pleasure yes, toil, strife?
This baby boy lying
In his mother's arms
Bringing such joy
A new life born
To this world of uncertainty.
Suckling life-food from his mother's breast
Appearing oblivious to our troubled world.
His hands saying more than words
As if imploring with his Maker.
In these tiny hands there's hope
Hope to help yield peace
Our whole future lies in young hands.
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