Sistine Chapel

Two Hands Touching  in the Sky (In the Sky of the Sistine Chapel)

A child of silence and slow time
a legend haunts about their shape,
a mad pursuit and a struggle to escape,
all breathing a human passion far above,
kisses upon a fevered brow
desolate with the thought
of being left in a debt,
light of wings or clipped of wings,
They cannot leave their little towns by the river and the sea,
streets evermore ,
and the stonewalls of the citadels
closing in on them, wrapped in woes
woes not theirs,  all of the peoples,
of people alien and yet their own,
a grecian urn of a different time-zone
containing ashes of burnt wood and driftwood
plastered upon a clipboard of time.
Two hands frozen in the sky,
close and far apart
forever missing the mark
and yet surpassing death and time
 because frozen immobile
in the stillness of time : God's Time