Guest Post — My Hands: A Triad of Poems

By Dianna

Human Hands

My hands
Are the way they are
For a lot of reasons.

Because my dad’s genes.

Veins that pop out
Like my mom’s veins.

Nails I’ve finally learned
To not bite
Most of the time.

A cut or two here
From helping my
With her lovely

A smudge on the left hand
That I write with.

Dirt under the nails
Gained gardening.

Dulled fingertips
From tasty nights
Flipping tortillas
On the hot griddle.

Cracked with eczema
Like my Grandmother’s
And her mother’s
And probably all the
Mothers in my tree.
Thank you, genes.

Calloused and tough
Because I took up gymnastics
Just last year.
I’ve grown so much
And love my new hobby
And my hands reflect that
Which I love.

Strong with the knowledge
Of kneading dough,
Scrubbing plates,
Turning wrenches,
Wiring fuses,
Building a home,
Comforting a friend.

My hands tell many stories
About who I am,
Where I came from,
What I do,
What I love.

I don’t see what makes them
Woman hands
As opposed to
Human hands.

Woman Hands

How is it that my hands
Which have no breasts
Can only be used to
Nurture and feed?

How is it that my hands
Which have no womb
Can only be used to
Give of myself?

How is it that these hands:
The same shape,
The same strength;
Yet are not equal enough
To work side by side,
As hands are made to do?

If hands have sexes
Like woman and man
Why is it not clear
As our hands lined up,
Perfect images of each other,
That women and men must
Be equal?

Worthy Hands

If Mary’s hands were worthy
To prepare the body
Of Christ for burial,
My hands must also be worthy
To prepare the emblems
Of Christ for renewal.

If Hannah’s hands were worthy
To pull down a blessing from God
And have a promised child,
My hands must also be worthy
To place a blessing from God
And promise to my child.

If Mother Eve’s hands were worthy
To work and toil and teach
Alongside her helpmeet,
My hands must also be worthy
To carry and build and shelter
With my helpmeet
Equally yoked,
Equally joined,
Holding hands.

Dianna is a Utahn who likes to read, travel, and explore food from all over the world. She was raised in LDS Mormonism and cherishes its ideals of community, friendship, and human potential.

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3 Responses

  1. Wendy says:

    Beautiful, Dianna. And to your final poem: I couldn’t agree more.

  2. Chiaroscuro says:

    “How is it that my hands
    Which have no breasts
    Can only be used to
    Nurture and feed?”
    Love this <3

  3. Heather says:

    Beautiful. Thank you.

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