I can’t even begin to describe,
The absolute joy; the warmth; the elation;
That came over me that moment,
Even if for just a moment,
That you took me by the hand.
I can’t even remember the last time
I wanted something so small to last forever.

All I’ve wanted to be is closer to you,
In every way possible.
To know your biggest dreams
And your deepest fears.
And if somehow those things
Magically lined up with mine,
Only then could I show you
How big I can smile.

But that night,
Despite
All the distractions that were,
That was the one thing that I know
I did not merely imagine
On a drunken night.

But right now, I’m okay.
Here; far away. From you.
But I have that moment;
Even if it’s only mine.
Of that one moment when our hands
Intertwined.

It's far
far beyond
I can ever reach.
But the sun is shining
up in the sky.
How can I ever say
it's mine.

Hand on heart
but how can I deny
Indeed there is one.
Even far from so far
shows me a light!

His eyes wander.
They don't meet mine.

Tension from a fight.

The air is drowning me.
My legs are too weak to run.

Is this the end of us? I thought.
Can we ever survive this?

Deep breath, trying to gain the strength to walk away.

Away from him, from us.

His hand reached for mine.
A sign of peace, the future, of us as one.

Our hands fit perfectly.

And finally our eyes met.
I saw a depth I haven't before.

I saw love.

When it's taken, a leap of faith,
and, when heart's been robbed of its chime,
When behind the lids eyes take shelter,
and things make no more sense to the mind
When a walk by his side brings the universe to her
and life until now is a wasted errand
All this churning, welling up and heaving
just to feel his touch and hold his hand...

The hair on the back of my hand
glistens in the lamp at night
it tells me I am a man
I am a creature
a thing created.
I did not create myself
even though I act as if I did.  

You made this body
and you keep it alive.
When I look at my hand
sometimes it reminds me of Jesus
who was also a man.

I yearn to feel his touch
his arms around my shoulders.
How often I need his hand
on the small of my back
giving me a gentle shove.

When I picture that hand
in my mind’s eye
I see the hair
the veins that bring the blood
from his heart,
a heart so full
so big it reaches to heaven.

It also reaches into my heart
when I think of his first noticing
and then stooping down
to touch the person on the side of the road
the person nobody else would go near.
I am touched to tears.  

That was the hand of Jesus
reaching down as it does now
to this sinner.