You Have To Stretch Your Hands Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

You Have To Stretch Your Hands

You have
To stretch your hands
My Monsignor
The roof of the gilt cavern
Where are wandering
Round and round
So high it be
We think that with
Our bare hands
We touch it

Thursday, May 22, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: love
Daniel Brick 22 October 2019

This is a poem of Realization. You and the eponymous Monsignor are in a place of beauty, where golden things shine. But you realize your perception of things is distorted. You feel you can touch the ceiling but you cannot. It's way above you. This seems to occur just before you discover you are lost, or at least walking on a blind path.

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Daniel Brick 13 June 2014

I'm surprised the Monsignor joined you on this journey inside the cave. He strikes me as a very cautious man not given to such gratuitous entertainment. Besides he is so cool, ironic, dispassionate, the messy worlds of nature would seem to hold no allure for him. I may be wrong. I may have misread the MONTSIGNOR. But this seemed closer to the Poet Seer's type of exploit. But I caught up in this claustrophobic atmosphere and felt relieved to leave it behind.

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Patti Masterman 24 May 2014

You have to reach out with those OTHER hands, the grasp of the soul is infinite and depthless. I love this.

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Gajanan Mishra 22 May 2014

very fine, I like it, thanks, Please rea my poems and comment.

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