Gesture and Abandon

I fold my hands together, their embrace I am looking at

But the sensation within my hands is warmth—these too meet

But oh my ears! They long to participate, and the smell, the taste

Of it happening, meeting, dialogue, exchange, sacred talks

Perception creates energy, lucidity, my two sides

Many sides meet and as much as it is, wave upon wave upon wave:

Expansion-exchange, love-friction, inspiration-pressure

It is also a silent passant that generates of its own accord—

Am I invited? 

Within my hands together there is a power, a soul…

My heart knows something—I pray for this?  

It is pure and strong and I can build upon its foundation

In the cracks of the void I perceive a thousand creatures

We are united in the folds of these mother worlds

Unlike my thoughts that must start over each time...

…though who knows whom the heart really serves

I call it goodness 

Will it be enough? 

The good that gives of its own accord

In an age where hands have forgotten what they embrace?