Feeling The Hands That Made This World.

1/12/2012 8:07 PM

I stand in the darkness of night,

A moon rising with my eyes,

A crisp chill creeping down my spine like fingertips,

And my heart is heavy at the thought of you vanishing.

To find a way to keep you close,

To find a way to never let you go,

I find your body by the shore, a look of wonder upon you.

You smile as I approach you, a silk tug on my burden,

Raising your finger to the sky as you say softly in my ear,

"Look at the universe far out there, and tell me what you see..."

Stars and clouds in the black atmosphere that spell out how we can reach.

A light of whitness that doesn't burn to gaze upon that seems melancholic,

And a creature flying past as I find the words to say.

My hands slip to yours, entwinening our fingers, a gentle grasp that you tighten.

"I only see something we can hold in our hands one day," I whisper to you,

A voice of melody in your ear as you and I stand closer.

My fingertips run over the knuckles that could hurt me,

Over the palms that could kiss my throat with suffocation,

Over the nails that could claw my body,

And I feel the hands that made this world possible,

The Creator of my life's will, and on going determination.

My fingertips slip over the veins of your wrists,

The flow of your blood seeming to race beneath my touch.

Flesh I touch as I hold the hands closer to my face,

Kissing the man who shaped this world.

And I hold you to me as I stand in the darkness of night,

A moon rising with my eyes,

A crisp chill creeping down my spine with fingertips,

And my heart is full at the thought of never letting go of you.

Author's Note

A dream I had stuck in my head...