First Love's Touch,
mutual gathering was only through them,
We poets celebrate
Hearts and Souls;
Love too wields magic,
but neglect too often
those stalwart two-
the human hands-
we're birth'd with.
in our Corporeal Destinies
yet hands occupy
in the Pantheon of Graces
a position lower than should be.
Consider birth's first
is a touching hand.
First our eyes open
we are lifted by them.
Is not reaching for love
first with these twins?
Was not my First Love
first touched by them?
Did we not, we two, hold hands
along the heart-way walkways?
Did not these two first wave
sweet hellos and partings?
What poet's mind could word
Alas, too, it was these two
which fluttered dismissively
First Love was leaving.
At death's bed
the last we reach
for nurse, loved ones
with be with these two hands,
when from this world departing.
Is not electricity
generated by them
in the touching of our bodies?
Are not hands reaching on the Grecian Urn
expressing love's startings,
it's yawlings and yearnings?
I will die
as we all will-
its hands that will pray for me.
I will lay,
my two hands crossing.
I am touched by loving hands
to Death's Regarding.
All my life these two ambassadors
to me and from me
The tear of child
is reached by these
and Child Worlds mended.
have only these
to express what
what my Heart says
In the end
cry for them too:
will reach out
one to each-
one floating flower to another.
Lonnie Hicks's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (A Hand by Lonnie Hicks )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
(12 May 1828 – 9 April 1882)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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