A touch of excitement,
of Christmas bells,
of lost treasure wells.
And of victory
and visions
and of loud legions of lions
roaring...
A touch of support,
of that half broken branch on the tree,
of that plank
floating alone on the endless sea.
Of the only kid who
refused to cry,
who wouldn't be denied
of his chance to
fly...
A touch of passion,
of the rough and the tender,
the triumph of Feeling
And Beauty's surrender,
in the arms of
the empowering blaze-
the unspoken understanding for each others'
vulnerabilities...
A touch of sympathy,
of the shadow under the canopy.
Of the hand that
pats your back softly
to say, "It's okay
You're there where I used to be
someday...
A touch of love
of the reality in the illusions
that are our simplistic imaginations.
And of the who, why and what
of our being
and the things and people
that we are seeing,
in the foreshadowing of our own
dreams...
