Hands cup together 

Tight around a thought

Confident they hold

The truth their fingers

Move around through their

Siftings between the

Place of declaring,

Discovery and

Hope and feeling the

Shape of what they hold

Eager to share what

They’re able to hoist

 

Turning it over in

This perfect moment

Of grasping and yet

Dissolving the truth

Finding it slippery

 

Much like an ocean

Crashing ashore and

Then receding chase

Fading memory

Of exactness and

The forever act

Of changing these hands

 

Pretend to be able

To shape the wind and

Force it into words

Whittling away

At their meaning