The Ocean- Nicki's Favorite Place

The Hand That Holds

When I was a baby she held me close with a grip that could not be broken,
This helpless little body in her hands.

And as I grew she held my hand, my first words not yet spoken,
As I tried to hold my own and learn to stand.

Later on, her same strong hand chased away my doubt and fear,
Her touch made all the monsters go away.

Yet in that hand I could see it written so very, very clear,
Authority when I wanted things my way.

But then I grew and loosened the grip, letting go of childish ways,
Not needing her hand to protect me from the world.

I was my own person now, more mature every day,
No longer seeing myself as "Momma's little girl".

So through the years the hand grew old, weary and very weak,
Not looking as it did years ago.

It missed the touch of that child as it would brush across her cheek,
And feel the warmth of her skin as it glowed.

But this hand was not needed now, sadly its task was done,
It had raised the child to be out on her own.

So as each day passed the hand grew weak with the setting of each sun,
As it lay bruised and tattered and all alone.

But then a touch-a familiar touch when life was at its end,
A feeling incomparable to any other.

She felt the grip of her hand in mine as I reached to my best friend,
The hand that belonged to my mother.

So though we grow and learn, we remember who we are,
Every life goes through so many phases.

Now it's easy to look back and to see from afar,
The only difference is the hands traded places.

For I will hold her hand forever, from this day on,
Till the time comes for one of us to leave.

And if my day should come first and I am called home,
She will be there to hold my hand for me.



My Sea


I often stare in wonder at the beauty of the sea,

As I watch the rolling waves reach out to welcome me.

I think of its mystery and the treasures deep inside,

So many unknown secrets, so much there to hide.

I think about the waves on a warm and sunny day,

How they change to violent enemies when a storm comes our way.

Then I think about my life with all its different parts,

The joyous, happy side- the sad and broken heart.

And the treasures deep within that I hold so dear,

Are drowning very slowly in my sea of doubt and fear.

I feel the waves upon me and the shifting of the sand,

As the power of the sea steals the grip from my hand.

But I dare to let go as I remember the tide,

For every time it falls, it once again must rise.




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My Thoughts


I've seen times in my life when I was given only five seconds to say the right words, only to have them come out wrong or not at all. Times when I've loved with every part of me and then lost that which I loved so much. Times when I knew the odds were against me, but thought, "Who created the odds anyway?" Times when my heart was so full of grief that tears meant nothing. Times when "my" life wasn't mine alone. These are the times that nothing can change. They will remain forever a part of me, but I cannot bring them back and make them over to be times of joy. Sadness and grief are inevitable. So, I must take those memories and hold them close, for I have also seen times of happiness that some only dream of. This life God gave me is MY life and it is good.




This page is © 2001 by Laura Stants.
Graphics made with love by
Liz's Memorial Graphics.
May not be copied or reproduced.