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The Hand
by Steven Craig
That life is to be lived, is a certainty
It is a slow burning intensity
That can be crippled in its new embers
Or long held warmth embraced in the knowing hand.
Life is a deeply rooted thought in only a few
Most others being too shallow to ever live fully
No path holds more than any other traveled
The difference is in the hands that pick the bud.
No person is a shadow to one that holds the torch
No dream is disarmed without a moments reflection
Words do not always answer that souls questing need
Often, it is a mind's eye that sees her the first time.
It's time will always be a no mans land
Taking carelessly from all and each that tread there
Without the will to conquer the wildest dream
The soul, the person, the dream, perishes there.
Take the place high on the green pastured hill
Tall beneath the blue cloudless sky
The cliffs that would reach out for you are denied
In being bound to the will of that stern stone
The aires will be hushed in their relentless passing
They carry the sound of the endless sea
Your heart will beat with the joy's intensity
That hand has reached you finally.
07/12/2008
Posted on 07/12/2008
Copyright © 2024 Steven Craig
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 07/12/08 at 05:33 PM This has such a surety to it, a comfort in knowing that our destinies will find us. I especially loved, "Words do not always answer that souls questing need", for the truth of that rings in my heart.
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