Poetry and poësie

Photographik by De Waal Venter

A point in in time

Take a look at your hands.
What have they done?
The fingers have held
the flint
to make an arrowhead.
The hands poured iron into a mould
to make a sword, later a gun barrel.
They put together machinery
that ran on wheels
across the continents.
The hands fit together
thousands upon thousands of parts
to let you fly
high over the land.

You hit somebody with your hands,
you caressed with your fingers.
They can move gently
over strings
to make music that brings tears.

Your hands have been dirty,
you have cleaned your hands
many times.
Now you point with your finger
into the moving smoke of time.
You follow
your finger.