With my left hand I push lightly cool ebony and ivory of cords here and thereand they respond by illuminating the surrounding space… With my left hand I touch cautiously porcelain fragility of your shoulder and watch your head turning to...

Clouds prostrate their misty flesh on the earth’s rim.Sky is closer,breathesright into my face. Like in a dreamI’m stretching to touch Him, leaping after the misty veil,…and my wet soles leave the earthly mud with humble pray....