The Union

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.