Am I not touchable?
Have I not breath
or song
or voice to speak?
Have I not eyes
to see your soul?

What matters this body?
Is it not full and sensual?
Does it not burst forth
from the soul
just as light beams from the eyes of God?
Has it not a duty
to be as graceful as an angel's wings?

This body matters
and is not all.
I am full and glorious of God
in my fullness.
Sing my praises
for I am the compostella
from which all dreams are born.

c. 2014
Roberta Compton Rainwater

* *Field of stars