EDGY HAND PSALMS  TO CRADLE OUR HEARTS

These poems are inspired by Hands. Hands always speak to me…they speak of ancestors, joy, response-ability, blood, struggle, prayer, land and so much more. The connection between our Hearts and our Hands is the alignment of our Life’s work. These glorious tools of creation give me endless inspiration.

 

Despertar

My startled Heart woke thinking of You.

Birch eyes blink-blinking wide open in awe of

You,

trillions-of-light-shards-dancing-on-the-water-You.

Ancient tools carve deep trails of destiny and shape

Cliffs of Love

Always fall-falling for You.

Elephant-knee knuckles sound daily alarms and hold our weight.

Still, Life and Death are seasons crack-crackling beneath our feet.

 

Passion Marks and Squares

She sways in the palm of my hand.

Cool breezes and sunlight make perfect

Bite circles on my Heart-skin.

She defiantly throws lean Shade on cement blocks

And traces eternal salt on my Heart-tongue with her finger.

Bruce Lee and Childish Mudras

Blank walls reveal the jaws of barking dogs at play.

Middle fingers start wars.

Thumbs take risks and pretend to be “ok”.

The Moon’s long pointy finger sports a red gift-ribbon

And humbly reminds to our heavenly glory.

We solve Finger Cuffs in Minutes

At first I am in wonder

Then bound in despair.

When we pull away there is no escape

When we come close we can breathe.

When we pull away blood is strangled

When we come close I can sense your wise pulse in my fingertip.

The urgency is never lost on me.

“I see you.”   Hand Goggles Instructions

Point and press narrow index to stout opposable evolution.

Briefly observe.

Flip upside-down, outstretched, wide,

toward organic listening devices.

Adjust to false awkwardness.

Finetune cradling the jaw.

Allow your clam-shell-heart to enjoy 20/20.

Marinate.

Audacious Deep South Handshakes

They celebrated the filling of Her pothole with numb cheers and beers

Drowning out Her cries.

They stumble on sidewalks shaped like crooked hard-to-look-at teeth

Blaming Her roots for every skinned knee.

They dance on Her grave

Pretending Her body isn’t there.

Where am I?

Making Psalm 78:72 Current Energy

And they tended with integrity of Heart;
with skillful hands they led.

by Andrea Bellini

May 16, 2021