Thursday, March 10, 2011
In Rodin's Hands
my heart into.
-bluegrass blues on mandolin.
-drawing designs for a higher view.
-reconstructing tools into instruments.
-cuddling cat fur.
-morphing into tighter spots.
-spreading a pyramid of support.
-pressing flesh with delicate fasciculations.
-articulating to tap, trace, scrape, slide or ruffle.
I miss inter-lacing through the windows of our souls.
Missing someone can take all shapes, forms and feelings. What do you notice most when you miss someone?
This poem is generated from a trip to Philadelphia, and the Rodin museum. Before I spent 4 days studying hand surgery and rehabilitation, I spent 1 1/2 hours circling the bronze figures of hands, feet, nudes and faces at The Rodin Museum.
This is what I miss.....