RESURGENCE Forbidden to reach for your hand, never to touch your face, I hold you in my th
Forbidden to reach for your hand,
never to touch your face,
I hold you in my thoughts,
selfishly, privately from sight.
A moment's peace I seek to gain
with dreams of your embrace;
my resurgence is wrought
as your image dispels my night.
I sweep over deserts, pierce through mountains
in spite of time and space;
my beginning is sought
as a swift current draws to light.
I kneel shamelessly before a fountain
I can but only trace;
the difference is naught
from what is real or yours by right.
E-Mail Fredric L. Rice / The Skeptic Tank