dynamic hands #2

I close my eyes
leave my hands
to work the clay

my fingers see
by touch

by press

round
around
I spin the wheel

dynamic hands

slippery
they slide
as though
of
the form

my thumbs
know
when to gentle in
my fingers
go on
caressing
and the clay
the sweet clay
yields
to the guiding touch

a tactile
sensual
absorption

behind closed eyes
I see the shape
dynamic hands are making

tenderness

creative love

mud
rising to become
bowl

fingers
coaxing
thin thin walls

the wheel
that is this dream
still turning

~

Poem #587 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.

4 thoughts on “dynamic hands #2

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