“To hold a hand is a magical act, a ritual of such simplicity
that it is easy to forget all that it can conjure.”
N P Smith
A MAGICAL ACT
There lay between my palms a hand,
cold and almost lifeless, such that
my warmth could make no gain.
It’s eyes were shut,
no expression played across it’s face
and only the habit of breathing
remained as a sigh seeping over lips.
But as the callous hands of a clock
clunked, relentlessly, to an unknown
hour, minute and second, a moment
of dread and embarrassed release,
I felt the fingers curl and grip my
hand and I knew it’s import was
love and reassurance, a knowing
of what we were to each other
and a last goodbye.
ALCHEMISTS OF WORD FACECBOOK SOCIAL GROUP
YOU’RE WELCOME TO JOIN US !
Nigel,
this is beautiful. You have a gift
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Thank you Ben, your comment is most gracious, if it is a gift then it is best shared
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In among the sorrow Nigel you have captured the feeling of peace and strength that comes with being with someone at this point. Another moving poem and summed up perfectly with your quote.
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Thank you Davy
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Indeed, holding a hand is a simple yet magical act that can convey so much. Love the heavy sound of the ‘clock clunked’ and the feeling of the loving grip. Another excellent write, Nige.
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Thank you, Colleen, you’re most kind.
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Heart touching
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Thank you very much.
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Tremendous and utterly heartfelt. Your words enter a place deep within, dear Sir!
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Thank you Ms Diana, I’ve a piece coming inspired by our chat about ‘vinyl’.
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Oh lovely! Give me a nudge if I at first miss it, the work year has started off rather busy and annoyingly gets in the way of longer WP sessions! How inconsiderate of my employer/s lol!
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Beautiful Nigel, sheer and strong. Simple actions conveying a whole relationship,
conveying death, love and togetherness.
Brilliant and deeply touching.
I have saved your quote as it rang strong bells and still today I find a great truth in
what this simple action can give.
miriam
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I greatly appreciate the time you take considering your comments Miriam and I thank you for this comment in particular. I often feel reticent writing about death, it seems so taboo in the west, or maybe just England, people are so quick to accuse you of being morbid, but we can’t shy away from it, and Poets are drawn to emotion. I would be interested in your thoughts concerning another piece ‘Death of a Butterfly’ which is very unusual in it’s theme, I was going to post now but Fiona has done a wonderful piece called ‘Butterfly daze’ at wordsworthmuse so didn’t want the circle over run with butterflies.
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