Somewhere, there is
a pile of scissors,
all waiting for
a guiding hand.

Safety scissors compare
stubby tips with nail scissors;
surgical scissors and kitchen shears
talk over finer points of tendon, bone.

All have platinum-white blades,
gold handles. All lie jumbled
in a drawer, waiting, hoping
to someday be




To be linked later today at Open Link Night at dVerse Poets.


22 thoughts on “Purpose

  1. that carries the message well…cool metaphor…we all need to know that we’re useful…that we have a purpose in life… that we can make a difference…tailor-made..

  2. It’s one of the worst feelings ever – not having a purpose in life, or not knowing what your purpose is. Right now, it’s a bit too close to the bone for me….

    • I hope things become more clear for you soon, and that you’re able to cut through the confusion. Pun aside, you’re right that this does not feel good. I wonder how many of us are certain of our purpose more or less from the beginning, with very few false steps?

  3. As a stubby-tipped scissor myself, I sometimes wonder if it’s a guiding hand or a good strong piece of paper that I need…
    Succinct and full of meaning. As Alice would say: it seems to fill my head with ideas…

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