In response to a friend's suggestions, I offer the following. I am always so grateful and honored when folks trust me with their thoughts.
May it bring a smile to you, and speed you Home.
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Life begins with a touch.
Just as the finger of God stretched out in the creation of Adam on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel,
we reach, we hope, we need to connect.
Just as that chasm existed between Heaven and Earth, so there is a sacred space between you and me.
It is a place of possibility, of hope, and yes, even sometimes, fear.
If I touch you, I run the risk.
I dare to believe that you will reach back.
We know touch for the sensation that is ever-present in our viciously delicate world.
A touch remind us of our roles, whether it be by possessing the decision
or by yielding, no matter what the cost.
It can be insistent, rough, perhaps, in order to instill a deep ownership.
Or it can be practically reverent.
A touch which breathes into my bruised soul, reminding me again that life is not yet completely written.
As fingers trace delicate paths from nape to spine, I trust once more that this touch will bring me to that place apart from me, to you, to us.
As arms cuddle me close in the night, the fears of the unknown future fade into a soft haven for my weariness.
And I am Home, once more.
