These hands are marked.
They’ve been blistered by good intentions
and pushing the rock upon Kentucky hills & New York State highways.
They’ve layered brick & tile
upon concrete, lifted fallen trees
into sawdust epiphanies.
They’ve pushed aside dust
into piles of forgotten yesterdays.
The blisters eventually popped
causing callousness & walls around the soul.
I am thicker today than I was yesterday... ...a little bit wider - more cautious
of the sculptures I create & relate
to what I’ve destroyed
from a lily pad.
Another palmed creation
sparkling in bedazzled stupidity.
My humility has sunk below
& sits aglow before koi,
catfish, & worms.
These ideas squirm from synapse to synapse, with the momentary lapses in fluidity.
At the tips of my fingers are dreams
& it seems as if they wanted to burst, shooting stars across liquid landscapes.
Yet, they struck & stuck by
the lack of luck in all my fortunate.
I am rich & have a world
in the center of my palm.
Stay calm.
PURPOSE. DOUBT. CREATION. INTEGRITY. SOUL.
METAMORPHOSIS. BIRTH. JOURNEY. WONDER. DEATH.