The Hand

"Reach, reach," he said.
"My hand is out to you,
but you have to reach it."

So he stretched,
and barely slept
all his life long
but the hand remained
always just out of reach
and he did not notice
the simple beauty of life,
that which he was ignoring.

Others were watching
and feeling disappointed
and the hand, the hand,
was moving only from
plate to mouth.