A touch will be enough


monochrome photo of couple holding hands

Photo by Min An on Pexels.com

A touch will be enough

I think of my first love
who escaped south
and who now faces old age
with a brightness
far better than death’s impending despair.

My last love,
All passion spent,
Was of a quiet deep fulfilment
of silent bliss
engaging me
while the blackbird
for both of us now
sings in the highest tree
and, with a distant touch of the hands,
a slower walk with the waves
on that distant shore,
bird and sea,
my soul is fed,
listening to their songs
keeping at bay life’s end.

For now
I dream converse,
I listen to my memories,
resisting that clouding of the vision
which elapsed time brings.

I allow perception of days to come
in which appreciative eye
and halcyon heart
will enable a new closeness,
one of being together
in harmony with both past and present,
and the future becomes again
brighter.

A touch will be enough.

 

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