Rhythms

There is no touch like your touch, backed as it is by love. God’s own rhythms are brought to mind: the mounting arc of an ocean wave in its eager steady rise and the exquisite explosion in its plunge. a volcano blows and lava flows, the ashes softly flurry down to blanket earth’s bed. a swelling surge of lightning, its jagged bolt thrust deeply in the ground, the resounding thunder a herald of its rapture. every sunset is nature’s afterglow, and in your arms like a brand new dawn, a memory is born each time your touch warms again.