When she reaches over infinity
stretching from behind
some uncharted geographical place,
her hands comfort offended
Alpha & Omega, these mysterious two
who presumed they were
the beginning and the end.
In so doing
she spins her faeried fingers
across my exhausted flesh
and touches me
where God left me hungry.
Her sensitivity strokes my compassion,
stokes spontaneous human combustion
and satisfies my need to know
that she was made for me.
We join then in a touch
the skin of our hearts,
the eternal graft of God.
This poem is deep. It is also great. Thank you Richard for letting us share this poem with you. It will inspire all of us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem is deep. It is also great. Thank you Richard for letting us share this poem with you. It will inspire all of us.