Stephen Fuller *** Poetry, Essays

‘Our hearts open and hands hide our faces’, a first draft poem by S Francis

Our hearts open and hands hide our faces
The brightness of this morning, terrifying.
“I do not deserve this.” “I do not…” “I…”
Always returning to this ‘I’, we are, as if
It existed to what we open up our hearts to.

We cannot know all that we weave around
One another so that we can all live true
To a Word that we hear but cannot use.
Only in our trying, we endeavor to flow
The last blood through these purple veins.

(C) S Francis Fuller
Art The Weaver by Max Liebermann

14 Responses to “‘Our hearts open and hands hide our faces’, a first draft poem by S Francis”

  1. ivor20

    An intense insight piece Steve, and these lines are resonating loudly within me..
    “Only in our trying, we endeavor to flow
    The last blood through these purple veins.”

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • S Francis

      It is work we must do. I hope in subsequent drafts to be able to draw out a greater sense of hope… we shall see… thanks for the comment Megha!

      Like

      Reply
  2. Donna Matthews

    Reminds of the word sonder: The profound feeling of realizing that everyone, including strangers passed in the street, has a life as complex as one’s own, which they are constantly living despite one’s personal lack of awareness of it

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

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