Momentary Miracles
Lives, more fragile than dreams,
meet and tremble as they touch
in the semi-darkness
of their waking sleep.
Should they touch too long,
the visions fix.
Lives link
like hands on hands
like bare arms entwined
like moist flesh clinging.
Lips and eyes wander
amid millions of lips and eyes.
In momentary miracles
sometimes the right eyes
and the right lips
fuse
and shut out the darkness
by closing into each other
as birds fold in their young
as mouths of babes
close on their mothers’ breasts
as one dream closes
to start anew
as I fold gently
into you.
Terry