That Magical Touch

Something simple but indispensable.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A hand that waved in the distance,

A couple embrace in a hug,

Two boys extend their hands for an handshake,

A hand that massages the neck,

Lips that purse to kiss on the cheek,

The buddy who held us in an elbow hold,

A pat on the back at the end of the game,

A manicurist who clasps the fingers,

The bridegroom who ringed the finger,

The sun tan lotion that she applied,

The water we splashed on the face,

The soap that we rinse off the body,

The bath that baby has in warm water.

A simple matter of the touch,

But remarkable, for its simplicity.

Reviews

[R J Askew]

I like this one. You are so right, esp in those last two lines. We love those little touches, both in the getting and the giving.

[Laughing-Bear]

My Dear Writing Friend,
As I sit out here tonight with pencil and pad by a fire I ponder your poem “That Magical Touch”. Your word painting dances through my thoughts much like the Northern Lights are dancing above me, and I am stuck with its simple beauty and truth.
I realize that this need for touch can go beyond just us humans. I just walked through the gang-line patting each dog, as I rubbed his or her ears. I did this to reassure them that the howling of the close wolf pack is nothing to be alarmed about. They know that I am the big dog and I am watching over them. They in return nuzzle my face and lick my hands, which bonds us closer. They are not my dogs; they are my children, my best friends. This bond started out early in their life as I spent countless hours handling them as we played.
My thoughts turn toward humans. I think of a friend who is a counselor, he works with those dying with AIDS. Greg told me once that those on their deathbed are rarely touched. He goes in and holds them, if they are a believer in some sort of Higher Power he helps them link to that Higher Power. He holds them until they walk to the other side so they know they are not alone. All he says have gratitude beyond measure for this gift of touch; they feel once again they are important enough that someone would hold them as they slip away.
I think of my girlfriend who lay in the hospital in a coma. When I would hold her hand as I reassured her the monitors of her dying shell would show she was calming.
I muse memories of walking with my son on lazy afternoons holding his tiny hand or holding him in an elevator and reassuring him that if the elevator fell just before it hit bottom I would jump up in the air and we both would be safe.
Yes even this old musher of the Bush country needs touch, a hand shake or slap on the back by a friend, a hug from a beautiful woman, or a kiss from my mother, or a paw shake from a dog make life a wonderful adventure. Life is good and the gift of touch is the frosting on life that is so relished.
Thank you for this poem, it was worthy of many hours of pondering and my personal favorite I have read from you yet so far.

Blessings, Bill Laughing-Bear

[Enigma]

I guess the sense of touch surpasses those of sight, sound and smell, however "simple" it is. Wonderful poem. :)

[Judas Hammer]

The magical touch. Just a touch can convey so much emotion. You brought his out in your piece. I enjoyed this-