Your Hands

Your hands your beautiful naked hands coming to rest like butterflies upon the flowers you are arranging or flying with laughter like birds into each new gesture that articulates a question & leaves it hanging in the air until you sculpt an answer from the space around you me listening for hours as your hands talk stained with paint charcoal or chalk cut with sculpture or held against your face how they seem to console the mystery of the mystery that lies behind your eyes your hands more naked than your nakedness hand resting now upon hand like silence sleeping your soul held quietly as if it lay dreaming awakening now as if conducting unheard music your hands that hypnotise me with their honesty and gracefulness your hands your hands open to receive my unworthiness turn it into love your hands cradling my head holding my thoughts so lovingly your hands your beautiful naked hands.