Hands

Hold my hand all grown up...

For the road 
ahead 
to tread
is long.

And the day will come
when you, my son, 
must walk this path alone.

When raging storms that teem with rain,
or blizzards full of snow.
Make slick even the firmest grips
Of friends that come and go. 

But with years of wandering, 
And loving
And sharing
And searching for the perfect hand.

On firmer ground and stronger footing,
In this path your feet shall stand. 

So remember these days of love that we share.
For the hands you hold now are of those who most care.
And whose path ahead trails wherever you steer,
for our way would be lost without your heart near.

For there are no lone words...no books that can teach,
the purest of loves that life can beseech.
And the answer to why we must journey alone...

To hold all the hands we love more than our own.