Dawn

Through touch our fingers speak The soft language of hellos and goodbyes Murmuring in heated nearness A wordless quilt of piecemeal Memories etched in pastels and pearls.

Simple gestures matched with smiles And nods to send us on our way; The last thing seen is the hand upraised As if in prayer of time together, A small movement nearly lost amid The larger world yet meaningful As if we never left at all.

Cupped water in hands like spoons Small whirlpools spin like planets Around tidal wrists and sunburned arms Offerings containing neither guile nor pretense, Humble acts approaching something like grace.

Shadows willingly transform; Between the darkness and the dawn Becoming incandescence and not its shield; Patiently we listen to ebony sighs; When night’s long fingers Surrender their grip on the edge of the world And spill light across the land.