Thoughts Have Hands

Candles brighten birthdays:

Made for wishes 

Blow them out, 

Open gifts.

Every year —

Candles multiply —

Wax soldiers in formation — 

Crowd mother’s frosting.

The first five fly fast

The world — a mouth:

Nibble Cheerios,

Sample dirt.

The little person

Takes giant steps on

New found feet, 

Runs too close to fire,

Grabs sharp edges 

With abandon.

Falls, then begs for 

Comfort — often needed.

Sometimes given.

In succeeding seasons

Persons ask big questions 

Lean on security, 

Learn the price of gravity

Practice reason, 

And the art of secrets,

Earn a few medals. 

Every year candles

Burn with hope;

You blow them out 

Add one to grow on.

Every year 

More soldiers drafted,

Platoons arranged in rows

Assemble for revelry, 

Stationed in thick icing—

Defenders of dreams — 

Wane in battle.

Cut the cake,

Pass slices to friends,

Save one for yourself,

Enjoy dessert.

Toast the years, 

Add up dismissed candles 

Discharged from service.

Mark this one gone,

The year before,

And years way back.

Play taps for burnt candles,

Counting on more. 

THH

5/26/26

Tree limbs sunbathe

Naked in spring air,

Branches fondle the breeze, 

Leaves pursue warm rays.

Wind tickles leaves —

A mother’s finger 

Underneath young chins,

Caresses tender skin, 

Wipes away dust and dew,

Lifts little eager faces,

Sends them to play.

Spring’s growing season 

Incarnates impermanence 

Repeated with stubborn risk.

All invitations confirmed,

Earth, water and fire

Host seasonal flow,

Join love’s recursive dance.

And the fond wish of reason,

Begs a liturgy for permanence, 

To deal with imminent loss,

And pangs of chance.

But given spring’s haste,

And no promise of future tense,

Now

Smiles from the tree,

Trades oxygen with air,

Swings with delight, 

Leaps the edge of time,

Chases the sun, 

No hint of waste, 

Bets it all

On the strength of green ….

No fear of fall.

THH

5/8/26