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Sunday 9 October 2011

Poem: Hands, Fingers and Arms




I imagine my HANDS 
...having a watch to count the good deeds
...having strength to raise children so they would be brave
...having posture to express more empathy than conformity
...using sparks that light up the hearts in need
...having enough warmth to offer shelter in the coldest of times
...having wisdom to share with others
...can set aside the differences between us
...knowing every forest like the back of the hand
 
I imagine my FINGERS 
...making symphonies with the stroke of grain
...are able to speak to the deaf
...don't tremble at the thought of fear
...can paint a better picture
...reaching into the deepest places in search for truth
...can recite old, forgotten tales
...can untangle the mysteries of the universe
...are the best toys and learning tools

I imagine my ARMS 
...are as soft as pillows, that dry away the sadness
...are calming like the sea waves
...are not tired after a days work
...have the power to stand the time
...are growing new flowers
...offering support to every blossom or seed
...can dance joyfully with anyone
...can welcome birth and death with the same grace

and in the end I imagine they are able to forgive 
                what has or hasn't been done