Today I am learning to see with my hands
To look with my fingertips
To understand with my grasp
To reach into the shadows and find what was lost
When eyes are easily tricked
We must look in other ways
Searching through damp softness
Wading through scents of days gone by
Seeking a sign that must be found
We know it is here
But when the earth is black and blue
And the sun is choked by cloud
And time has caked itself onto every surface
We must look beyond what we cannot see
Rummage through the nothingness
Feel for the smoothness, the consistent, the firm
Glide the edge along your thumb
Made by hand?
Or made by land?
Sort the straight from the organic
The regular, the measured betray the presence of men
The tapered, the uneven, quietly whisper
“Crafted by nature”
What do you feel?
Does it splinter beneath your soft touch?
Does water collect on its surface?
Has it been carefully shaped?
Have other hands been there before?
It is not so different
From searching for the light
In the middle of the night
Run you hand along the wall
Feel for the plastic switch in the dark
Trust your hands
You have done this before
Plunging them into a hamper
Sifting through puddles of silk and cotton
Fingertips can always find the right pair of jeans
but do not be afraid
Your hands can see the difference
between silk and denim
Wood and bone
Rock and pottery
Human and nature
Dive into the darkness
Feel for a buried world
Everything is here
If you know how to look