The Child With The Hands Of God
you know how much I miss her...
The Child With The Hands Of God
you know how much I
miss her, the child with
the hands of God,
who drew meaning up
from the dark earth
like water from a pure well?
she holds the pen,
moves the paintbrush,
smooths the clay
like petting a cat or
brushing the hair from
her green eyes and
she is frozen
intractable
unaged
unaging
moving like a lantern through
these darkened roomsYou can read more of Sean’s poetry on Arise !
Check it out here:
And discover his cowboy poetry on Bite the Bullet, here:
Sean Downing, poet, musician, teaches high school English and Theater Arts in Pagosa Springs, Colorado. He can often be found in his woodshop, coaxing music from odd scraps of junk, or haunting the trout streams around southwest Colorado. If you see him, don’t tell anyone: they’re probably looking to get an honest day’s work out of him.
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