Nurturing

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Three Years

Peter Henrich

I traversed three years in hope of discovering you.

My chest longed day after day to cross paths with a friend such as you.

Eventually our paths did cross...

Now you sit at my left side.

Conversation ebbs and flows among those at the table.

My secret thoughts of another friend, one lost to me, fill the stormy horizon of my awareness.

Your finger pokes my shoulder, a first-ever physical attempt to ensure my attention.

I remain fixed upon you as you speak. Curious am I about this touch from you.

Conversation drifts towards those on your left then across the table.

My secret sorrow over my lost friend aches in my chest with each breath. Your attention returns to me.

A most unexpected and peculiar event occurs.

You rest your palm and fingers on my shoulder.

My secret thoughts melt and my secret sorrow withers.

Your touch is all I hear as you look towards me and say what you have to say.

Then you double down.

Your hand continues to rest on my shoulder as you turn to speak with another.

Remnants of stormy thoughts and aching sorrow fade as if a dream forgotten upon awakening.

My soul calms and my body, too.

...Traverse three years?

I would traverse three lifetimes and more in hope of discovering you.