My latest poem about global equity and equality. This poem was written in 2019, just before the coronavirus hit the headlines worldwide.
These hands are free, they belong to me.
But these hands could easily be beggar’s hands out in the street,
Pleading with each hand they meet to throw a dollar at their feet.
These hands are free, but regrettably,
There are some hands across the seas who are slaves to giant companies.
Fingers working desperately, though treated with contempt,
By narrow-minded greedy hands grasping at the top one percent.
These hands could be a child’s hands, calloused, struggling through the day,
Working hard to meet demands in a nation far away,
Where other children’s hands just play.
These hands could be indigenous hands,
The first ones in these mighty southern sands.
Think about how we would feel if our hands were bound,
By settlers from another place who took possession of our ground.
With cold and callous fists burnt our communities down,
And took our values and beliefs and turned it all around.
So let’s hold out hands of harmony and listen to them respectfully.
With these hands of ours so free, let’s have a little empathy for our Indigenous community,
And respect their truths about history.
When we glimpse the helpless hands reaching forth across the seas,
Who are we to raise our hands and languish in ascendency?
To deny all those precious hands a foundation in this expansive nation?
To accept the amputation of hands who plead in desperation?
These hands are free and gratefully I will remember them,
Whose hands were spent for liberty, though they were young men.
And women too, the brave who gave tremendously, before the grave.
Hands lost for our autonomy
So with our precious freedom, let’s take responsibility
And value the hands, native to our sands,
And welcome the hands who have need of our lands.
Remember the hands who took a stand and fought for our democracy.
Let’s learn from their comradery.
And stand for worldwide equality. Because we’re all brothers and sisters globally.
And I could have been you and you could have been me.
These hands should all receive the same,
Yet some hands are dealt loss and pain.
Do those hands really deserve the blame for all the things that fate has dealt?When with these hands we could have helped?
So let’s lend our hands to everyone because ours have been the lucky ones.