Hands Always Remember

A mind may forget things,
they slip away into the night or
fade back into death in a moment of idleness
a mind is a leaky amphora for the sweet wine or bitter potions of memory,
and is rather indiscriminate of what goes, and what stays.
But hands remember well.
A pianist's hands remember a tune and how to play it
even after he is long deaf and can't remember his grandchildren's names.
A gambler's shaky hands remember the feel of the cards or the die,
even after he is broke or reformed or both.
An artist's hands remember the patterns and subtleties of the brush.
even after they swear they will never paint again.
A violinist's hands remember every sweep and vibe of the bow,
long after they have failed to be moved by the music.
An author's hands remember the desperate flow of writing before the inspiration disappears
even after the manuscripts lie long forgotten in a binder in an attic.

Hands don't forget because we would lose so much if they did
Hands will always take care of their owners.
Hands will remember, Just in case your past rises up to face you, one last time.
Hands always remember.

Trevor Plint