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.
