Blazing Fingers Poem by Doris Cornago
Blazing Fingers
Touched your face as in a dream
You make my waking hours seem
Like a lucid dream, so real
Are the emotions that haunt
Tumultuous feelings that sends
Me drifting, falling, circling
As in a whirlwind traipsing...
You cannot know pain and need
Until you own up to them
I see more sense in hurting
If feeling them will make me
See him again, and again
A placid insensitive rogue
Incessant with his taunts...
The lovely melody is ending
The radiance of his face
Diminishing...Letting hands
Linger longer, rolling over
Highlights of my life etching
This gentle man in deep pain
Stays to comfort my suffering...
He jumps about as one scalded
He grimaces at my discomfort
He scolds, he cries out loud
Brown eyes staring in anger
And yet, he makes me suffer less
His blazing fingers to my frozen spirit
Give me hope and eventual forgiveness...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/9/2024 3:15:54 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Reading this poem again makes me remember my friend from another country, the renowned pianist Pedro Cornago, who kept up with me in the early mornings (his early evenings) so we can partake of a meal of creativity awakened by memories and piano - his and mine mingling in compassion. Thank you my friend for sharing with me pieces of yourself and putting back together my own shattered pieces.