Hearts & sand
Posted: January 24th, 2011, 5:57 pm
if you cup your hands together,
you could hold an entire heart
entrusted with care, the beating
of which continues, insists,
a gift of life, enough to persist
through aches, occasional
skipped ticks, and bountiful joy.
But if you are entrusted with such,
in as much as morning trusts
the present of a lucid dawn,
never make the hands into a fist,
instead be gentle, fingers drawn
and linked to hold the pulse
as tenderly as poetry is inked,
honesty employed.
And if you cup your hands together
to hold the grains of sand, please
understand each represents the
infinite powers of love, and if one
slips between your fingertips
and lands upon the shore,
remember there are many more
to fill your palms.
And so I sing you psalms,
delighted by the hold of heart,
and start each day anew
with blessings sent to you –
grain by grain, beat by beat,
so certain of the limitless
repeat!
dp.1.20.11
you could hold an entire heart
entrusted with care, the beating
of which continues, insists,
a gift of life, enough to persist
through aches, occasional
skipped ticks, and bountiful joy.
But if you are entrusted with such,
in as much as morning trusts
the present of a lucid dawn,
never make the hands into a fist,
instead be gentle, fingers drawn
and linked to hold the pulse
as tenderly as poetry is inked,
honesty employed.
And if you cup your hands together
to hold the grains of sand, please
understand each represents the
infinite powers of love, and if one
slips between your fingertips
and lands upon the shore,
remember there are many more
to fill your palms.
And so I sing you psalms,
delighted by the hold of heart,
and start each day anew
with blessings sent to you –
grain by grain, beat by beat,
so certain of the limitless
repeat!
dp.1.20.11
What did I have in mind? The endless possibilities of love and how it sometimes can slip through your fingers, but there's always more like grains of sand.... an infinite number of possibilities. My muse is love. We all want to give it and receive it. The poem was a gift, as love is. Hearts need to be held gently and with care. Honestly, I've never been too lucky in this arena. The sand grains slip through my fingers and my hands have been empty many times, as many as my heart has been crushed. I'm just trying to believe again and scoop up the sand grains .... believing in infinite possibilities. It isn't easy but I'm trying. I feel lucky to have a chance to try. This dor's been locked up tight for a very long time. The best we can do is believe. After that? It's out of our hands. Thanks again.