If only my hands could do justice to my vision,…
I could paint you a masterwork
in colors vibrant, living, true,
honest.…
If only my palette were
broader, more able to hold those
subtle shades, those momentary whispers,
those shadows of clarity.
If only I could show you...…

If only my hands could lend wings to my voice,…
and notes could arrange themselves
precisely enough. If each crescendo
could crash upon the wave of the next...
If each sonata could press against
the one before it, form fitting,
a symphony of comfort,
a composition, to give you...…

If only my hands could mold my dreams,…
could sculpt in just the right way,
the right shapes, the right
measurements, proportioned.
Graceful, fleeting but solid.…
Textured just so, arranged
in perfect harmony,
with curves to delight
both the hand and the eye.
A sculpture, a still life,
a monument for you...…

If only my hands could prepare you a dish
with moonbeams for spice, and melody
to taste. With just the right pinch
of soul, for aroma.…
And of course, a large dash of happiness
for color and plating. One must never forget,
that presentation is an important element
of flavor, and that my fondest wish is
to make a meal you will like.

02/07/2008