There's a hand that lives inside

These are still working drawings inspired directly from the poems, but I'm beginning to play with adding other imagery and thinking about increasing the sense of depth without making them too weighty. Here's the poem.

The Hand Thinks

There’s a hand that thinks, that lies inside, that lines the hand that moves

and it thinks: “While tying a knot, you can utterly forget, you can think
(can be thinking of something else at the time)
that muscles have a memory all their own
that lives again a braided time
alive
I tie.

Watch
what without you lives. The life of fingers
harbours
mutiny that doesn’t even bother. The hand, ever prior
avatar of architecture: archlessly, each one
is a frame.
There’s an empty frame on the wall and the hand is the sky
that opens the wall.

Cole Swensen