THUMBPRINT

On the pad of my thumb

Are whorls, whirls, wheels

In a unique design:

Mine alone.

What a treasure to own!

My own flesh, my own feelings.

No other, however grand or base,

Can ever contain the same.

My signature,

Thumbing the pages of my time.

My universe key,

My singularity.

Impress, implant,

I am myself,

Of all my atom parts I am the sum.

And out of my blood and my brain

I make my own interior weather,

My own sun and rain.

Imprint my mark upon the world

Whatever I shall become.

EVE MERRIAM

 

“I really love this poem. There is pride, joy        And happiness in it as well as a sense of   strength and power.”

Yu/stan/kema