I am a Fist
Strong and mighty
Quick and hard
I am a fist
Not tender Not giving Not open
I close the world
I raise it high
I strike the world
I make my statement
I am righteous
I don’t have ears
I don’t have a mouth
I don’t speak
You know what I want, when I come, when I show up
I grip on tight
I am a Fist
No I don’t want to be touched
I am the Fist
No, I won’t take your hand
I won’t walk along side of you holding your hand
I am the Fist
Mighty I am, strong ready to fight, ready to pound, ready to break, ready to anger, ready to turn red, and bleed. My knuckles are white and red. I am so tight and unmovable.
I am the Fist
I am hard inside my fist.
Sometime ago, I opened my fist and touched the silky softness of another hand. I Touch the kindness. It felt like water running through my fingers, easily it went through them. like wind blowing. I was an open hand, it was an easier time a time when my fingers moved to make music and worked to create.
I am the Fist
Ready to rest
Ready to release, so I can be that ” I am an open hand”.
