JONAH’S HANDSJonah Jones, sculptor, 1919 - 2004Jonah’s hands make rock soft.He stops on the Roman Steps,Runs big-bulbed digits over Cambrian stoneAs though over lover’s fleshAnd presses with his palm,Gently promising union.And in the workshopIs enacted the consummation,In which mineral and animal coupleTo make art; the miracle madeFrom mind through touch to object.And on the traeth the whippetTears through the air, slate thinOn the wide hard sand,The sculptor’s pet the artBeyond the sculptor’s hand.
Monday, 10 December 2012
This was written not long after Jonah's death, and originally published in London Magazine. It is also in my pamphlet, Tiny Disturbances (Acumen). Of my own poems, it is a favourite.