Nothing is forever

Waking from this long slumber,

I am surprised

the world is still here,

that the frayed edges of hills

still rise up

to meet a sky which seems

a clearer shade of blue,

that summer rain

tastes sweet again.

The seeming permanence

I slept through

has yielded

to confirmation that nothing

is forever,

and the triumph of having survived

the unanticipated difficulty

of the road

joins with knowing how easily

I could have broken

on the stones

along the way.

It is the fearless touch

of skin on skin

that sets chords vibrating

along my spine,

reminds me that each of us

is wired for touch,

that only skin

stands between us

and world,

that hip bone will always

connect to neck bone

by way of heart,

that lips will recognize and meet

in perfect pairing,

that an idle finger,

brushing a wayward lock of hair

from forehead,

will always welcome me

back to life

through the blessing

of touch,

the sweetness and embrace

of a forgotten dawn.