Touch My Heart

Child
Touch my nose, my lips, my eyes
with your small hands.
Then touch my arms and chest.
Feel their shape
how real they are.

Now, touch my love.
No, not my chest or arms or lips.
You are puzzled.
How is one to touch love 
and where is its place?

Love is not here or there
But who would
deny its reality?
Where does love reside
if it cannot be pointed to?

Is it less than my chin?
If anything, love is sharper, harder, softer,
warmer than bodily things, objects I can touch.

There are matters not subject to the senses
taste, sound, smell, sight, touch
Matters elusive to definition
yet known without doubt.
Known to make us cry and laugh
to move us to unimagined heights
to courage and self-sacrifice.

Experiences -- like love or God
Cannot be fingered, placed or poked.
Of such things
it is wiser to ask
not where but when.

Not where is love 
not where is God 
But when is love 
when is God
Recall the meeting
the moment, the time.

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