your hands

1/
when you would rub your hands together
as if they were cold
the strange tension and then release
and the way your face would screw up
and then relax into one of your glorious smiles
your nails curved over the ends of spatulate finger tips
a cigarette held loosely between two fingers
palm up, hand bent at the wrist, while you talked
strong hands, capable, practical, tender

2/

when you rolled a cigarette
when you used both hands
to gather your dark heavy hair
and lift and twist it up
and away from your face
fingers stained with paint
long, slender, graceful, the colour of weak coffee

3/

when your hands gather tomatoes
or test the weight of cucumbers
I see the knuckles enlarged with age
the scar on the side of your thumb
the clean, neat nails

these hands would have held me once
when I was a baby, a tiny child
they would have lifted me and felt my weight

and when we are gathering lemons
and you are passing them to me
you pass all the times you held my hand
stroked my hair, and tucked me in close beside you

your hands have been open ever since
waiting for mine to close over them

Writing prompt from Sarah Selecky:
“write a list of times you remember staring at someone’s hands”.
https://www.storyisastateofmind.com/

These are my memories of three special people.

©clairegriffin2017

 

 

 

dreams of – heritage and challenge and change

Thinking about dreams…

IMG_6568

What does it mean when you meet someone in a dream, you learn their name, their job, develop friendship. They are interested in who you are, they look at your writing.

They asked me a question I can’t remember fully – but I know it was a challenge of sorts – “so if you have this Scottish heritage why are you still writing …?” I can’t remember the rest of their question, but I know I countered with “…and the Irish”. We were looking at handwritten text and in the dream I could read it – but have no idea now what was written.

We sit looking at the dark sky filled with multiple crescent moons and stars and I say, “on nights like this I can’t imagine there being anywhere better – but maybe its time to leave…” and we agree to move away.

It really is like living another life…

Thoughts:

  • heritage
  • challenge
  • change

 

 

this imaginal space – draft pt.xii

a month ago
three emissaries from the green-world
visited in the trees outside my house

a trio of plump white-chested kereru
a confirmation, affirmation
why else come for one day, and never again
except to tell me, there is a story to be told

I know why they came
I know who they represent

we find what we look for
synchronicity occurs when we pay attention

my prayer is observation and question
imagination is my promise and reply

 

©clairegriffin2017

this imaginal space – draft pt.x

the green man reaches up
to touch your snow-feathered shoulder
and you hold him in your pale hands
and take him into the dark places
binding him in a lunar eclipse
as you honour the enchanted union
with the son of the land

queen and daughter, wife and sister
you have many names

Artemis, Marama, Cerridwen, Hekate, Rhiannon, Arianhod

they are our gifts to you, whispered into the wind
our way of calling you family

but in the dark
he does not need to know your name
all he needs is the scent of your hair
the sound of your voice
the touch of your hand
and the ring of silver

 

©clairegriffin2017

this imaginal space – draft pt.ix

you carry our creation and evolution
as a ring on each pale hand
and with every flick of your fingers
you rearrange the past

as you dance
every flip of your skirt shakes the trees
every clap of your hands thunders the skies
your smile is lightning

as you dance
your hands spin the clouds
your hips shake the mountains
and make our seas rise and fall
your feet stamp the heartbeat of our land

 

©clairegriffin2017