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These Hands

The Mentor

Jim is the mentor.
training vines
driving tractors
lifting stones
killing weeds
building fences,
all to be on the land
balancing the mind and
the hands.
all to read and learn even more,
to tackle a jungle of blackberries
and to clasp his hands together
with his many worlds,
all to teach and 
mentor and
grow
the art.

words by Callie Beuermann

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These Hands

The Maker

Susie is the maker.

with fixing hands on

the black dirt cotton farm—

with hands that row

and calluses that

form and heal

over and over—

with hands like spiders

over a keyboard—

with hands that

move by themselves,

moulding and shaping and creating

clay and glass and jewellery,

gentle with patience

kept safe for them

to make.

words by Callie Beuermann

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These Hands

Love

Chris is love.
she’s three or four years old,
next to her sister—eight or nine,
in clothes made by their mum,
smiles and love.
she sees the nooks and crannies
of her hands
as an expression of love—
hands in the cats’ fur,
giving hugs,
holding people,
memories of the keys of a piano,
sowing the seeds of a garden.

words by Callie Beuermann

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These Hands

The Giver

Emily is
the giver.
beads on beads
on thread,
folding, making,
exploring.
Emily
loses herself
in love and care;
she accepts her dad’s final gift
of transformation.
she is
the glass bead among
the rust
she stays the same
and changes,
all at once.

words by Callie Beuermann

The Glazier
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These Hands

The Performer

Ben is
the performer.
he transforms a room with
percussive hands
against
his guitar—steel strings 
tear up his hands—
his storytelling tool,
his noisemaker.
his hands are protected
by rings and the echo
of his dad’s hands,
a connection without touch.
his hands fall away from
his body
as he works,
but touch pulls them back.

words by Callie Beuermann