Two Hands
Jim Kettlewell


Piano keys struck by two hands.
Hands not trained,
Yet music made.
Loved music, charming the cares,
Of young children, and
I am one, and I have heard.

A father plays with hands and ear
And from a heart,
Born to hymns.
Leaving the notes of centuries,
The words of faithful poets,
Laid upon all who will hear, as I have heard.

And now, those hands are gone,
But the sounds,
Made for years,
Live on, in my mind and voice,
Two hands, that I might see and sing,
And know a heart, that I have heard.