A mass tucked in
Plump soft tissues
Formed from
the soil and sea filtered down
from the
stars
to in-bed
the dust of the ground
Body framed and
encased
by the pottered
skin we’re cast in
To sail voyages
written on the wind
Spunned upon
Moon beams
A fluted
bone
A Flowered
milky-way
Honed and
sown with fibers
Proceeding through
the heart pump
Extending
down around through
Waterways
channeling
Millions of surging
waves
Springing
deep inside the fissures
like the
strings of violins
strung about
the stems and shafts,
the lobes
and portals
and gateways
To surface
like a melody
one hears
when the orchestra
plays a mastered symphony
This blessed
creation
of God’s
making
Not merely
for reproduction
But gratification
and placation
Not merely
for birthing
and nursing
The lips
to kiss
comes
naturally
warm and
soft
sweet and
savory
Transporting
messages down the spine
Inciting the
mind -
Touch me
tenderly
This body
formed so sumptuously
Amply woven
Wholly knitted
to release
Eruptions
Shaking the
earth floor
Emitting
fervors
to ease the
hungers and thirst of
The molded
flesh
to do or to
die
So much of
us being human beings is about touch - as in stroke the face,
simple
contact, pat the baby’s back, rub the arching feet, massage
a sore bone, caress
the thigh, wipe a running nose, dry the eye,
squeeze a hand, feel the sense of
blue, embrace and hug,
and pet the animal at the zoo.
We all need
to be touched.
Even in our
spirit – we seek a touch from God
A song says,
“He touched me…” and it helps us on our way.
He touches
the body and one is healed; touches the mind and one sees;
touches the heart
and one loves.
Touch is so
much of being alive. The human body was
made to be touched,
within and without.
It is pertinent
to the form laid in its foundation – as we stand today –
shaped from the clay.
Religious folk
emphases much to the flesh on the sexual aspects of sin.
Yet, most are afraid to touch the
subject head-on –
to explore the
extended boundaries; look into the “matter;” to tread
across the
waters of the deep; to understand this formation of man
and his sex.
He’s choking
on the apple; he’s hung up on the head of the snake –
(it’s been cut off).
So he hides,
he chides, he derides, he lies in self-righteous prides. –
like a child afraid
of the dark.
Only he’s
afraid of the light.
Being birthed
in this earthly body is a transitory feature.
It’s a place and time of man – to rise up and conquer
the realm –
and move on from lowly earth to the higher universe.
A school of
thought.
