The Union
by Marina Kauffman
It is a gentle summer rain;
A soft murmur on the skin;
The tender melody and constant rhythm
Leaves tiny polished beads that
Melts into a dry and thirsty earth.
It is a sun
Searing and potent,
Radiating its beams
To penetrate. Reaching the depths
Driving out the frost of a winter cold.
It is a whisper.
A subtle voice hardly heard,
An undertone of pleasure
A groan that through its silence reaches the heart
And breaks the restricting confines.
It is a Pleasure
The sharing; a union,
The giving of the self
That joins two hearts and minds
Bringing contentment with a residue unsurpassed.
