[the Writing of Kuypers]
Your hands, the
Your fingers, I’ve
Along the tip, and
Your hands, they’re
And like a
Bring beauty
The table. They
Fall into
Symphonies,
You can do
You must be
Let me create
Feel your power.
Your mind:
Hungry. Why are
So beautiful
[JanetKuypers.com][Bio][Poems][Prose]
ikebana
Rolled up sleeves,
Dark denim, strings pulled
At the buttons
Rough edges, the nails
Jagged, not cut
Noticed them: one has
A long scar
Your skin is rough
Along the nails
Skilled hands of an
Artist at work:
Conductor, you
Orchestrate
From the dying
Flowers at
Line up quickly,
At attention:
Place so gracefully.
You create
Move mountains, Seas
Part for you.
Anything. I
See that now.
My savior. Let me
Follow you.
Beauty in your
Name, let me
It’s all in your
Hands, your heart,
I’ve seen you stop
Wars, feed the
You so strong? Why
Are your flowers
Copyright Janet Kuypers.
All rights reserved. No material
may be reprinted without express permission.
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