I am a fist

I am a Fist

Strong and mighty

Quick and hard

I am a fist

Not tender Not giving Not open

I close the world

I raise it high

I strike the world

I make my statement

I am righteous

I don’t have ears

I don’t have a mouth

I don’t speak

 You know what I want, when I come, when I show up

I grip on tight

I am a Fist

No I don’t want to be touched

I am the Fist

No, I won’t take your hand

I won’t walk along side of you holding your hand

I am the Fist

Mighty I am, strong ready to fight, ready to pound, ready to break, ready to anger, ready to turn red, and bleed. My knuckles are white and red. I am so tight and unmovable.

I am the Fist

I am hard inside my fist.

Sometime ago, I opened my fist and touched the silky softness of another hand.   I Touch the kindness.  It felt like  water running through my fingers, easily it went through them. like wind blowing.  I was an open hand, it was an easier time a time when my fingers moved to make music and worked to create.

I am the Fist

Ready to rest 

Ready to release, so I can be that ” I am an open hand”.