Can you touch me with so much presence that I feel your soul in your touch?
With so much presence that we know in that moment all life is condensed in our divine flesh?
Can you touch me with so much presence that time stands still, mocking the absurdity of endeavour?
With so much presence that your heavenly touch, and my surrender to it, opens the door to the eternal, the timeless, the unbounded?
Can you touch me with so much presence that you feel the entire Universe through your fingertips?
With so much presence that words would cut like a knife into our silence, our communion?
Can you touch me with so much presence that we may both become fearless?
and in the sacredness of that moment we are reborn?
that we know we can never go back to being who we were before?
that the now uninhabitable house of yesterday lies burned to the ground by the all-consuming flame of raw undefended presence?
Do you touch me to give to me?
Do you touch me to take from me?
Or do you touch me to free us both from the illusion that there is a ‘you’ and a ‘me’?
to taste the sweetness, the ecstasy of that cosmic union known only to madmen, mystics and gleeful babes?
Before you reach out to touch me, I desire to know
Can you really touch me?