In the fields

We stand, in wonder, and look at the time that has been lost, with empty hands. What happens when the hands fail? Those same hands that worked for so long and were also the ‘self- revealing gestures of the soul’? My own hands have darkened with time.


In your own line of work your hands are largely idle. Heart and hand out of tune. The ‘life of the mind’ is not life; it is abstract rather than time-ridden, textured by place, interwoven with the lives of others.

The dream of the unified field. Only half of it is revealed, as if out of modesty.

‘One in the Hand’:

A bird re-entering a bush,
..seeks
the missed discoveries
before attempting
flight again.

—J.Graham