Tumbleword

of 3 sisters

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A day full of much small ecstacy.  The in and out of living in the self, a simple activity we’ve made so difficult.  All it takes is to stop, pull the attention back inward and lean back into it. 
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Once, I found myself surrounded by windowless people.
There must be light inside, right? So I start to throw rocks, bricks, anything
to break a window into the dreariness cast.  We are all
so dependent on this light.  Do you understand the task?
Why do I wonder then, how cruel am I…
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Anthony Goicolea Website:  Very multi expressive: Fairytale Series. Drawings : Underwater:: Belga Series. 
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Since I started this blog in September, I get awesome private notes.  The blog on a beauty mark brought wonderful comments.  I wanted to post this one … it came with a wonderful poem about hands.  I love hands.  I asked permission to post it publicly because (its always right to ask) and some literary journals won’t accept a poem once published, even on a blog (small as mine).  Here it is:
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Dear Mansuetude, I have read about you because I could never have thought someone would write something about my rather ranting latest blog that was basically indignation after the fall of our government in Italy…
 
I have read about your “reflections” on genetic “marks”, I too have two marks, brown spots on my body on the same, exact place my father had them… I have written a very particular poem on this, not so happy–my relation with my father was rather difficult–but representing as much as possible the truth of what I feel about the matter, I enclose it here below, I hope you enjoy it a little.

LEGACY

My hands on my knees
while I am being idle sitting on the train
waiting, with little patience, to arrive.
The way my fingers lie on my knees
or grasp them for a moment, long,
bony, thin fingers, easily cold,
easily pale, with wrinkled tips.
Shrivelled souls, lost in themselves.
The way the thumbs want to disappear
into the fists, the way the fists
are tightened, tense, looking for warmth,
enclosing the anxiety of refugees
who know they have landed on their last beach.

My hands on my knees, their backs,
the film of dry, thin skin,
the veils of brown spots
like the prints of tiny leaves.
I stretch my fingers, the palms of my hands,
I try to feel them anonymous, aloof.
No way, if you look at them
you know at once where they come from.
You know their nerves and in them
the grasp of the gaze.

By this sea that waits
and lets us wade
in our reflection’s chains.

Best wishes and thank you
Davide Trame
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Peace 
  

Your beautiful, beautiful hands– what are you doing with your beautiful beautiful hands right now?

Open them,

                      honor them, remember the power

                                          in them to touch, to create, to plant, to direct the music

of your life…. look at each fingertip, each line, the front and the inside warm palm.  Like the use of your words

             your voice, your love…. your education, what are you doing with your beautiful beautiful hands.

Light a candle with them, splash water, use them to teach a child to count, wash dishes, write, paint a mural, dip them in peanut butter and ask a lover to taste, cover them in cool thick cream, touch the doorknob of your delight, open them to rain, feel the glass of milk, or the cold beer, ruffle the hair of a child, tickle someone too serious… just take a moment to pick up a peach, carry it to your face, inhale, this is your hand… its capacity to hold to make things, to sense the weight, the temperature, the sensuality of… anything…. your hand is a miracle, treat it like a gentle child

and touch the world with it, counsciously aware of its capacity to be strong, bold, loving, delicate, capable of surgery, of swinging an axe at the frozen sea around your life, of doing almost anything.  Do it with Mansuetude– in the most powerful use of that word, in grace, and in full direct awareness that there is nothing else in this instant that your hand wants to do in this moment right now,

                                                      with its life.  Your life.  The life we all, as dwellers on one planet find ourselves part of… know.  The way you use your hand and its energy waves will be part of the large world of energy flowing out and in toward you, and those around you.  What are you doing with your hand right now?  Honor its grace.

http://www.mtvu.com/video/?name=today&id=1568547&vid=172310

This Easy to Watch clip above is a poetic video clip about Hands, Not Mansuetude exactly, but likely to make you BANANAs.

Below is a 2nd clip, it will take about 15 minutes, and it starts slow, but this is about Mansuetude and the way one person affects another, and it made me sad cause so many people live in little cubicle dungeons, and mostly because we choose not to fight for our lives.  For those with compassion.  http://www.mtvu.com/video/?id=1563057&vid=158559

p.s., someone did a rain dance cause it is raining out!  thank you!!!  Whoohoo!!!