Monthly Archives: February 2016

Written in Shaky Hand

I’ve never thought my writing to have any merit.

I’ve been told that it is graceful.
I find that doubtful.

I’ve been told that it is a mixture of printing and cursive.
I find that plausible.

When I look at it, all I see is a man whose hands shake.

A man who rushes rushes rushes with neither goal nor dream.

When I look at my writing I find a man who cannot choose, whose style whirls and teeters without the slightest hope of balance.

Maybe some day I will see a man who feels no need to choose, who glories in his momentum- moving for the glory and the pleasure of it.

Yet even then my hands will still shake.