When I touch the slow movement of the hour

the split second when your hand touches my time

and I breathe

the unattainable drop

of the pouring rain blessing the earth

every wave of life sails me to your shore

as if everything out there

leaves, puddles, wind,

were secret voices carrying my name

to that world of yours that holds no light of me

 

And if never, or forever,

you dream of me a little

I will dream of you a little

never, or forever

If you willingly imagine that I’m real

do not ignore me

for I will have already become real.

If you wish it long and hard--

the soft layers laid beneath my skin--

and you resolve

you cannot take me

to a place in you that would hold the light of me

don’t doubt that in that hour

in that split second when your hand enters my time

I should exit your shore

and my name will be carried back into the rain

 

But if with every step and every breath

you find yourself reaching for me

with insufferable tenderness

If with every pulse

a sigh clings to your lips to find me

Oh, God, dear love,

in my heart this flame will be perpetual

no dream will be forsaken, no bow broken

My thirst quenches in your thirst

my soul survives on your need to make me real

and if you wish to exist

in this world of mine that holds you in the light

it will dwell in your hands, forever,

as yours will dwell in mine

 

2005 © Maricela Barea