Tapestry Touch

Arms outstretched hold the gateway;
body made weary by gravity but,
desire caring little for the complaint.
Fingertips strained to the end,
searching for the limits of their power,
just reach the synaptic tickle
of the long awaited embrace.

On a bridge of such great heights,
my world collides into yours.
And I dare not make the slightest sound,
for fear the fragile feeling-
like the faint whisper of child's breathing-
would fade away into the open air.

This connection of dragonite dreams
echoes as the ghost of a great love,
and though I should like to know
the fullness of your grasp,
fate has become like the space
between Adam's finger and God's.