Hands

New to the big world 
Your tiny entirety sleeping
I hold your perfectly minuscule hands
and admire every single crease in them
as your individual breaths soothe me

Hesitantly stepping forwards
Your sprouting spirit curious
I hold your dirty hands
and wash them with soft soap
as your eyes look past me to see what the world is up to

Proudly endlessly talking 
Your stories innocently fantastical
I hold your gesturing hand
and I get you safely to the other side
as you check to see if I’m properly listening

Stubbornly independent your thoughts 
Your mind and person have so many layers
I hold your hand when you’ll allow me
And I do make an effort to make you laugh
as you are effortlessly making me happy 

I know you’re now a person
I don’t know the future 
But if you’ll allow me,
I’ll reach for your hands

And I’ll wash them when you’re a mess
And I’ll warm them when you’re cold
And I’ll patch them when you’re hurt
And I’ll grab them when you fall
And I’ll reach for them whenever we cross the street

Let me hold your hands sometimes forever
so I can admire every single 
perfectly imperfect crease