one hand greets
the many explore
minds are channelled
to both paper and mime
fingers lead us to our rhyme.
like railway tracks,
they lead us to each other
digitised terminals
to strum a chord
on another's heart.
hands that are used to clean the vile
deliver both the newborn
and food from the soil
dispatch the anointed with holy oil
tell ochre stained stories
in womb-like caves
conduct both orchestra
and missile,
and guiltless drone,
the actions of the right
by the left disowned.
©Niall OConnor 2024
Filled the bird feeder. Read the poem, it is really very good, covered so much of life.
ReplyDeleteMaybe we should sit on our hands more often. That way maybe we'd do less damage to ourselves and others!
ReplyDelete