“I Am From the Church of Human Hands

the Hands that tighten the lug bolts on rotated tires,

the Hands that picked the hen-of-the woods

(and not death caps) I buy to make wild mushroom soup,

the hundreds of steady Hands clasping steering wheels on a highway,

the Hands of Lucille Clifton, Emily Dickinson, and Kay Ryan. . .”

~ Sarah Dickenson Snyder, excerpt from “I AM FROM THE CHURCH OF HUMAN HANDS” (published in Rattle)

Oh, the shorebirds and the ancient conch with the hermit crab this morning gave me so much pleasure, under the worm moon fading and the hot sun rising. The egret standing next to the ink-swiveled bridge pilings at Longboat Pass Bridge advised me of stillness. Oh, the worries for the world are carried on heavy hearts right now. I was so glad I scheduled an impromptu long-distance check-in/check-up and writing session with the Farm Pond Writers this morning. We met via Zoom, those who could make it, half the group, and we missed the others, but I was able to lead a powerful meditation and share and discuss the poem I excerpted above by Sarah Dickenson Snyder, which moved everyone greatly. And I offered my writing prompt for writing from personal photos that embody “certainty. “ (Still happy to share it with anyone else who wants to see it, just e-mail me at kellydumar@kellydumar.com.) It was important to give everyone on the videoconference a time to share about what she’s experiencing in her writing and her life, and we listened. We can at least do that for each other. I know I am finding it harder to be away from home, and spend a good portion of my day in text or conversation with loved ones. A good portion of my day also spent organizing the redesign of the one-day April conference I run in Metrowest Mass. for the IWWG, planning I started over a week ago, knowing what was coming. It will now happen as a videoconference, thank goodness, as Susan Tiberghien will not be able to get here from Europe, as I anticipated, to present, and it will not be wise for Maureen Murdock to travel from California, or Vanessa Jimenez Gabb to travel from NYC. So, I feel very positive about this resilient transition. In the late afternoon–well, it was after 5:00, and still brightly sunny with sunset still over two hours away, and Frank and I, tired from being on our computers at work strolled out to the beach and sat with the shorebirds and watched them in their habitat as the water gently lapped in from the Gulf of Mexico. And my phone rang. Myra Shapiro, beloved IWWG poet, calling from NYC to check in about being one of our features on the All Voices Open Mic tomorrow night! We have so many women writers who are role models of energy, vitality, creativity, active well past their eighties. A delight to hear her happy voice and know I will “see” her and hear her poems tomorrow night.