untitled

another occasional poem:
i wrote the skeleton of this poem many years ago and then rewrote it this fall for my brother and his wife and read it at their wedding (although if you asked my father he would tell you that i didn’t just rewrite it, i rewrote it and then revised it and revised it and revised it and. . .)

i.
intent and focused,
i feel a gentle hand surprise my body and everything
falls into place with this
welcome interruption;

an inexpressible, inexplicable relief.

that same hand reaches out for mine before i request it,
and not a moment too soon
the fear rushes out of me;

and i know now that this is love:
the vital union of necessity when everything
suddenly
resolves into perfection

ii.
driving through the sunlight nothing matters
not our destination or even our words,
because we’re finally together;
poised,
trembling,
satisfied,
sincere.

and our hands,
knowing themselves all too well in one another
ask of us a grace:
all that we desire,
all that we suffer -
what we add to this gentle touch
with words never spoken.