The Blind Man's Stick

The blind man’s stick sees his world
tap, tap, tapping truth into his sightless mind.
He may misread the stick, but it cannot lie.
This urgent finger tip, echoes in his soul.
In reaching out to touch the hidden world
life to lifeless wood his mind bestows
and through this probing touch he knows
what we can only see.

Eyes can lie but hands will show the truth
uncertain of deceiving acts
and never trustful words
hearts are captured by these hands
a visible grammar of the soul
a graceful sweep of emphasis
a palm of peace and care
the slender fingers dance with grace
to the music of the thought they trace
in the uncomprehending air.
Hands that pray and supplicate
with tender grace
reverse the blind man’s stick
look closely for the truth is there.

Who is this other mind, this other heart
this deepest self where passion lies
that hides darkly with a downward glance?
Unbidden, unrestrained, these hands
catch the watcher’s heart
have courage, leave them free
do not think about them
do not even try
for if you do
they too will learn to lie.