Holding Reincarnation's Hands Poem by Tarun Cherian
Holding Reincarnation's Hands
I hold your hand.
Warm fingers.
Then intrude, the long fingers of a viscount.
Now, here are the fingers of an illuminator from Venice.
Now crane feathers.
And Lion's fur.
Here are the bloody fingers of a king.
Last, not least, are whispers of wind.
We are least alone,
when we are alone.
Somewhere a meteor changes its course.
Friday, August 12, 2022
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
This is a literal poem. A moment when I held my wife's hand and a multitude of Past Lives Joined in.
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 3:18:52 AM # 1.0.0.1119
