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©2019 by Prometheus Dreaming

The Spell of Shared Fingers

by John Roedel

I can't wait

for someone

to invent the

technology that

tells us when we

are holding hands with

somebody for the last time

 

the cruelest trick

of life is that it so

relentlessly temporary

 

I believe

that when we

hold hands we

are casting a spell

 

it's the magic

of making the

fluidity of our

existence feel

briefly static

 

it's the magic

of making the

fleeting present

feel like sticky taffy

caught on our tongue

 

when you

let me hold your

hand

 

it feels like we are pouring

maple syrup on every clock

in this world

 

hold on,

don't go,

let me explain

there is a

specific energy

that can only

come from

laced fingers

 

connection is everything

we came here for

 

togetherness is the

theme

of our lifetime

 

wrap your hand in mine

feel the

sunlight bursting through the gaps

of our tangled digits


 

you are loved

you are safe

you are here

I have you

you have me


 

this is our story


 

an epic tale

of holding on

to each other

as long as we

can


 

sending our Morse Code

love letters to each other

one quick hand squeeze at a time

as we walk into the dark forest

together

 

wait, keep listening

 

when I held

hands with you

on our

wedding day I

became a balloon

that you have tightly held on to

so I wouldn't ever float away

in my despair

 

you tied me

around your ring

finger and kept

me from getting lost

up into the church rafters

 

you hold

on to me

so tightly

still

 

keeping me from popping

I'm not done,

please

let me finish

 

when I held hands with

my children when they

were young I became a

foot taller and grew a

lion's mane

 

I held onto their

little hands so tightly

 

that I didn't ever notice

that they had grown so large

that they no longer needed

me to hold them anymore

 

then they let go

and I shrunk

and my mane

fell on the floor

 

and my hands

keep reaching for their

 

even though

are miles away

 

I can still feel the

phantom pains

of their absence

 

my hands remain open

in case they ever

need them again

 

or for when I need them

 

that reminds me...

 

when I held hands

with my parents on

their deathbed journey's

that were separated by

about 15 years

 

I could feel the piano music

of grace play silently

through our knotted

knuckles

 

it was our final

desperate duet that we

played together

before the angels

came through

the walls

 

the room was quiet

their breathing was fading

time was running short

 

so I held on to

them as long as I could

 

hands in hands

fingers between fingers

until the room grew still

and their lights rose to

rejoin the stars

 

I think that the most

important moments

of my life have all

happened when I

am holding hands with

somebody

 

we didn't come here

for cars

 

or for jobs

or for flush bank accounts

or for being right

or for winning wars

 

we came here to

hold hands

 

that's it

 

time is relentless

let's not waste

any more of it

 

blanket your hand

around mine

and let's watch

the sunrise

 

pulse against pulse

thumping against the thin

skin that separates us

 

until our heartbeats madly

kiss each other through

the veins in our wrists

 

hold my hand

all night

by candlelight

 

until our twisted fingers

cast their shadows on the

wall like puppets who

tell the story of how our

love endured

the fickleness of this life

 

hold my hand

until we cast

a spell

that keeps

us frozen

together in the

warm magic of

this moment

 

a sanctuary

of fingers between fingers

and pulses against pulses

 

a sacred tethering

between two hands

that were always

meant to find

each other

About the Author

John Roedel is a stand-up comic has published two books in the past year: "Hey God. Hey John. : What Happens When God Writes Back" & "Any Given Someday: The Poetry Of What Comes Next."