A Journey: From the Womb to the Tomb

When we are formed and carried in a womb,

Held in the most precious hands; a mother's.

Nourished and love beyond measure,

Then guided by the strongest hands; a father's.

Loved and cared by all in the family,

We go to school and when hearts connect,

We start making friends, held in bond of trust,

With changing harmone’s, we begin to fall in love.

Soon we are carried by pain and grief,

Yet we start to hold onto hope and faith.

We take vows to hold the hand of a loved one,

And then, we hold the tiny hands of our children.

We are held with responsibilities;

And along the way, we gasp onto loans and debts.

Our hands are tied with bills, government and taxes,

As the years pass, we begin to hold a stick.

The true love of a mother,

The strength of a father's hand; they fade.

And then finally we are carried in a casket,

By a few hands.. to our final rest.

We fall and rise, we are carried and held,

Life is always dependent on the hands of others.

So, ensure you hold the right hands,

The ones who'll carry you, even to the end.

By

Sanji-Paul Arvind