How often I have longed for a hand upon my back,A reasurring gesture, a friendly touch.There is so muchThat we don’t understand.And demons wait in the wingsTo seperate us from the ones we love.But I have not forgotten how the world began.It rises in my sacred imagination. And I see you there,The sacred one,The friend that I’ve forgotten.And from that place, I reach out To put a hand upon your back,A reassuring gesture, A friendly touch.Dear God, please wrap us upIn the love of friends that we’ve forgotten.And the hope of a world that one dayWill return to how it wasIn the beginning.

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