The hands of the old straw weaver
Carry her gnarled knucklebones
Calculating the symbolons
Not nothing held in her empty hands
The essential is absent, inseparable
Familiar and unknown
The longing is an arrow, a gesture
An invitation toward the search
A hot lightning haunting
Snatched in the throttle of the bolt
Hungry in the forever unknowing
Searching fields empty of answers
A thrilling hand held sates
The old straw weaver
A symbolon of another something
A token of completion
Inspired and paraphrased from this post by Ars Poetica – go and read it! The picture was also found there.
Shared to Sammi Scribbles 383 – calculate (80 words) and What’s Going On
1994ever 
Old hands have untold stories. I wonder what she is weaving.
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Since living in Asia I have learned that when people ask you to guess their age, it’s better to look at their hands than their face.
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‘A thrilling hand’ seems to have many a story hidden in it. Nice.
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The feeling of the first time you hold someone’s hand…
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Hands tells their own story of search and longing. Wonderfully told, Shaun.
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Thanks Dora 🙏
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