Places 08: Touch
I
Wide and warm and open,
the hands of spring drop rain,
soften down our frozen ground,
courses cut cross gravel roads,
fields and hills and streams erode.
Waters push away at loosening soils,
wash small stones and softened clay
from roots too weak to cling.
Soakings squish beneath our feet,
imprints pool and overflow
to rivulets that run around,
seeking always, lower ground,
washing down our crumbling earth—
firm land our feet once touched
has turned to air—
old certainty’s no longer there.
II
Touch lightly fastens seeds to silken wings
and sends the wind, the breath, the breeze
to carry life from root-bound trees
for birth in fertile earth.
III
Timely touch repairs a tear,
tags home before the baseman
moving through the air
gets there.
IV
Covering friendship-secrets shared,
Covenant touch of promised care
flies between our eyes across the room—
our smiles in silence, meet—
V
Strong touch
established fission
and — more powerful—
prayer.
VI
Touch flows from God’s full fingertips—
creation continues—
Oh, Love, touch me—
—and all my family.
Ginny Burch Emery © 2020
