My Favorite Poem

Several years back as I was thumbing through a magazine I came across a poem by the playwright, Tennessee Williams who is probably best known for his renowned drama, A Streetcar Named Desire.

I'll be the first to admit I don't read a great deal of poetry, nor do I write it. (trust me when I say you'd be very underwhelmed)

But the vulnerability and humanity in his work, Your Blinded Hand spoke to me in such a delightfully inexplicable way I eventually cut the page from the magazine and framed it. 

For years it hung precariously on my dinged apartment wall, staring me square in the face before I'd hastily dart into another unpredictable New York City day.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Your Blinded Hand 

Suppose that               everything that greens and growsshould blacken in one moment, flower and branch.I think that I would find your blinded hand.Suppose that your cry and mine were lost among numberless cries               in a city of fire when the earth is afire,I must still believe that somehow I would find your blinded hand.               Through flames everywhere               consuming earth and airI must believe that somehow, if only one moment were offered,     I would               find your hand.I know as, of course, you know               the immeasurable wilderness that would exist               in the moment of fire.But I would hear your cry and you’d hear mine and each of us     would find               the other’s hand.                              We know               that it might not be so.                              But for this quiet moment, if only for this moment,and against all reason,               let us believe, and believe in our hearts,               that somehow it would be so.               I’d hear your cry, you mine—                              And each of us would find a blinded hand.