The Final Gesture


Tell me what you want to hear
and I will say it.

But do not ask me what I think,
for I will tell you.

The time for play,
for games has passed
and already written legibly,
are the words no eye
intent upon seeing will miss,
or ears intent upon hearing
will fail to hear.

Riddles plague us,
confusing,  diluting,
to allow the throat to swallow
what the mind cannot masticate.

Playthings, toys abound
and crowd the issues,
pressing for attention.

At once the lessons
driven home seem hard to bear,
but with the arms up-thrust
in desperation,

the final gesture lifts man up.


One response to “The Final Gesture”

  1. from an e mail with permission from Jane. . . at Little House Home Arts. . .your words speak to my heart. . .

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