His Hands Poem by Tara Crown
His Hands
Turn oil into clouds
Trees into one story abodes
Deep creases tell a story
Salty on my lips
Inside them
I am small and soft
Trembling
Quietly bursting
Alive
New, blinking awake
His creation
Every line here offers some delicious, tantalising image, Tara. Lovely words. Warm regards, Gina.
This makes me think of the Anne Geddes babies, curled into the leaf of a tree or flower. The uncurling, the reaching, the feeling are all so well expressed. Scarlett
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/26/2024 9:31:40 PM # 1.0.0.1119
What a beautiful, image filled poem! Such wonderful expression in this little gem. Very nice work. Blessings- TGR