Skip to content

Cart

Your cart is empty

Article: Aged Hands by Alan Altany

Aged Hands by Alan Altany
Prose and Poetry

Aged Hands by Alan Altany

After the natural revelations
      of old, wizened, vintage faces,         
  aged hands are the body’s
                                  raw and rare feature that most
                                intimately disclose life & spirit.
    From all the raised blue rivers
  of veins under thinning skin
  to the geography of scars & spots,
                                each hand is a living remnant
                              of the touching of time bare-
  handed through fire and ice.
                              Human hands with signature
                          prints among the creases and
                                spontaneous display of wrinkles,
      the naked hands of loving reach,
                        holding another’s hand in the
transient passages through
                              a handful of life’s dramas.
    Playful hands, praying hands,
  raised in lament and celebration,
            old hands as epitomes of the heart
                                and well-worn incarnations of soul.

               

Dr. Alan Altany is a partially retired, septuagenarian college professor of religious studies still teaching, and a Christian poet.  He has been a factory worker, swineherd on a farm, hotel clerk, lawn maintenance worker, high school teacher, small magazine of poetry editor, director of religious education, truck driver, among other things.  He has published a book of Christian poetry entitled A Beautiful Absurdity: Christian Poetry of the Sacred (https://www.alanaltany.com/).

Leave a comment

This site is protected by hCaptcha and the hCaptcha Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

Read more

French Press by Caroline Liberatore
Prose and Poetry

French Press by Caroline Liberatore

Coffee beans, in grinding and agonyRelease the aromatic nod of dawn.Will you partake in the pressing? The scalding, the scoldingFlurry of once sedentary groundsjolted to motion. The crush...

Read more
I Feel Their Hands Upon Me by Ann Iverson
Prose and Poetry

I Feel Their Hands Upon Me by Ann Iverson

for my parents They are strings of a violinor light that filters through the treesand through the thickness of this lifeI feel their hands upon me. They are a lampin a window,the window n...

Read more