Touch

My opposite friends
Who fumble over French
Are giving their love to me.
Excited poking and squeezing sometimes annoy,
Mostly grow smiles with teeth.
The other doesn't much care for material feeling;
Instead of our thoughts we clasp hands.

My mother
Momma
Mom
We read by the light of the bulb
Alice Walker incited my muse,
My mother's foot rubbing mine,
Ever so softly,
Inspired me.
Her tenderness lives
Inside my heart
And will forevermore.

There, snoring by the video cabinet,
Is my brother.
He's furry, and his name is Zeke.
Sometimes my lap is his pillow, and also his drool tray.
That's okay.
When I pet him, my troubles are whisked away.

I have realized, however, that contact isn't always a two-way street
Music guided me to this revelation
The notes glided into my ear and whispered the holy things to me
The hands that created and loved it echo through
Listen to one song or another, and you can hear God in the keys.

Touch is the universal language, never needing translation.
Touch, simply put, is wonderful and absolute.
Touch is  the what, how, and why we love.
Touch evokes in us what we hope to do here, in words.
Touch makes us human.

Reviews

[WhiteWillow]

Ecclectic symbolism, united by a single thought. Well done.

[Emily]

Thank you! :)