Thought moves the hand, or the hand moves thought?
Each nerve obeys a hidden, wordless throne.
Mind and body wrestle, endlessly caught.
What first ignites the deed that reason sought?
The pulse arrives before its cause is known.
Thought moves the hand, or the hand moves thought?
I name the will, yet every name is bought
by older laws beneath the weathered stone.
Mind and body wrestle, endlessly caught.
Some silent engine turns what cannot halt,
its gears concealed beneath the flesh alone.
Thought moves the hand, or the hand moves thought?
Each choice emerges from a shadowed vault,
a harvest sown by seeds we never own.
Mind and body wrestle, endlessly caught.
If freedom speaks, its voice is faint with doubt;
I hear its echo, never hear its tone.
Thought moves the hand, or the hand moves thought?
Mind and body wrestle, endlessly caught.
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