- sometimes – good folks feed me poetry, lyrics, quotes, stories and words
- in my inbox yesterday a.m. was a poem about Hands by a poet id never read before from a pal of mine who had learned about our hunting for hands expedition. Thought i’d share it here if ya care to sit and ponder a bit.
- i dont claim to understand the poem in full but the parts that i do are dandy cuz we all should be humbled by being human and it is true that when i looked out at the expanse of various rock art on our sojourn i FELT things.
Things no more and things to come.
Note: the Hands referenced and reverenced in the poem r from California so the makers of the ones in the pix featured here from Utah were created by a different people but of the same race – the Human race (as in humanity me hope unless we give way to insanity and inhumanity (of which the poet subscribed to).
by Robinson Jeffers
Inside a cave in a narrow canyon near Tassajara
The vault of rock is painted with hands,
A multitude of hands in the twilight, a cloud of men’s palms, no more,
No other picture. There’s no one to say
Whether the brown shy quiet people who are dead intended
Religion or magic, or made their tracings
In the idleness of art; but over the division of years these careful
Signs-manual are now like a sealed message
Saying: “Look: we also were human; we had hands, not paws. All hail
You people with the cleverer hands, our supplanters
In the beautiful country; enjoy her a season, her beauty, and come down
And be supplanted; for you also are human.”
(thank u for sharing this poem and poet with us K and thank u for making this journey with me KC)
gratitude is the memory of the heart ~ jean massieu
It was also super cool to visit the Jean Massieu bilingual-bicultural school for the Deaf in SLC and see the ceramic mural they have of a scenic landscape filled with 3D HANDshapes for ducks, birds, leaves, flowers, tree and clouds. Art is the HeART of humanity. See below.
Are you a supplanter or a planter?