Deane's Blog

August 14 - hands

Deane Watters2 Comments


"I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world."


A Gentle Tribute

Her hands:

bathing babies in a warmed up kitchen

carrying water from an outside well

cracked and red from cold winter air

gently scratching backs and scrubbing floors.

Her face:

serene with years lived with struggle

a glow of gentle trust in God

a waiting, lonely face, yet joyful

Her eyes:

brown and sparkly with gentle stories

kindness deep and caring full

quiet and solid

Her heart:

broken many times but not broken to pieces

a gentle strength beyond understanding

a solid rock with many cracks

Her life:

my example

my gentle friend - my confidant

my life - the source of my being

Her daughter:



i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart) i am never without it (anywhere i go you go, my dear, and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling)

i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

ee cummings2014-08-14_0002The hands of my husband's 95 year old mother, forking up a piece of my freshly baked home made rhubarb pie.