A Gesture Of Meaning Comments
I uncurl the tight fist of my right hand.
It relaxes. I raise my right arm slowly,
fingers stretched and pointing upward.
Pointing to what? Perhaps a trace of
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Moon light, star light and pure air, the things a poet seeks always- Without them a poet will be suffocated.Our earth and its inhabitants too need light and pure air to sustain.Your imagery of grasping pure air to bring it closer is beautiful.
I raise my right arm slowly, fingers stretched and pointing upward. Pointing to what? Perhaps a trace of moonlight or even of starlight just barely visible. Or perhaps my hand seeks to grasp a pocket of air to bring it closer to earth so it spreads the purity of the high heavens over our valley of existence. What am I to believe? Is believing in something higher and better the answer to the riddle of our lives? - A great poem indeed.
I believe in God the Creator so I will not comment on that aspect of your poem, But as usual, you pose good questions that need not frighten anyone but give people an opportunity to privately review their own beliefs. You are a brilliant man and poet and I am glad to have met you on PH and see your remarkable talent in action! Top marks
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7/19/2025 1:47:58 AM # 1.0.0
Very intriguing. I may be incorrect, but it seems to me that you are painting a beautiful picture here that metaphorically says: releasing, letting go, is finding... beautiful.