A Blacksmith's Hands

"Would you truly have only a simple blacksmith's hands upon you for the rest of your natural life?"

He asked me that once.  There was no malice in the question, only true concern for my future.

I wish I could say I didn't hesitate.

I did.  For a moment, I hesitated.

Since then I have felt those blacksmith's calloused hands every day.  I have seen them work miracles.

I have watched them take cold steel and give it life, first in flame, then in graceful movement.

I have watched them caress a child's tears away, bringing a smile in their place.

I have watched them soothe a good man lost in a dark past, bringing him some semblance of peace.

I have felt them on me, everywhere, celebrating life with everything from the gentlest strokes to the heights of passion.

And I have not regretted my choice.