His touch

Touch me, Lord,

in the deep,

innermost recesses

of my being;

where no one

has ever touched

before;

where human words

only intrude --

where only your

gentle, healing

whisperings can reach.

Touch me, Lord,

early in

the morning

when daylight

is still young

and unsure;

at noontime

when the tense,

milling crowds

remind me of life's

unending burdens.

And touch me

again, Lord,

in the evening

when the sun

is setting low,

leaving only

you and me together

for the long hours

of the waiting night.

-les troyer