the touch of someones hand
we can feel so much
our hands do so many mundane things
turn a screw, shove, push, twist turn
the metal in a nut or washer
rusted
you can feel the flakes
you know its not new
grains of dirt
grains of sand,
so many small things
we can feel so many things
without ever knowing we feel
and then
it happens
thousands of points touch thousands more
our fingers are so taken for granted.
they grab and turn and twist and do stuff
every day all day
and once in a while
they touch the divine
another
another hand, more fingers entwining
divine
they coil like snakes seeking
they each tighten and release search and find
there is home here there is peace and love and excitement and comfort and
rest
god how i miss holding a hand
