Tracing the Lines

The late afternoon moon often feels like a reminder — a quiet presence tracing its way across the sky while we trace our own paths below. In its soft light, every line in our hands and every mark on the land seems to carry a story of where we’ve been and where we’re still going. This poem rests inside that moment of reflection, asking what it means to follow the lines that shape our lives.

Tracing the Lines

There you are,
all of you,
way out there,
full and aware –
tracing the lines
in my hands.

And there are
no new brands
on the land;
every grain of sand
still understands.

There’s a crack
in everything –
in all of you
out there,
feeling open and bare –
tracing the lines
in my full glare.





A recently released piece, carrying the same gentle pull of the moon’s slow journey across the sky

Ivor Steven ©  August 2026