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Dec 07, 2022
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The Hand Remembers
The weight of earth piled on
I lay under this barrow, mine
Trapped beneath the gravity
Created by my mind
So I picked up my pen
I let the words to pages flow
Guiding me to inner light
A former me I’ve longed to know
So I loved my paint and brush
Kissed canvases at early dawn
Invoking peace and deep insights
A former me is now reborn
So I cradled my guitar
The world around my heart did sing
Thinking of the timeless notes
Astounded by the joy they bring
My being, burdened with the weight
Fixed me firmly down, but yet
Hasten to the heart’s desire
The hand recalls what the mind forgets
About This Poem
Last Few Words: Getting back into writing and visual arts has been rejuvenating and therapeutic
Style/Type: Structured: Western
Review Request Direction:
What did you think of my title?
How does this theme appeal to you?
Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing Stage: Editing - polished draft
Comments
Candlewitch
2 years 7 months ago
dear Tim,
it is obvious that writing is a true passion of yours, the way your mind caresses every word and line...
*hugs, Cat
Lavender
2 years 7 months ago
The Hand Remembers
Hi, Tim,
I agree with Cat - it is obvious that writing and creating are your passions, and it's so exciting to witness and be a part of it all!
L
lovedly
2 years 7 months ago
but for the last line
your poem flowed like
Rhine