Nomad Writer

Fingers crossed
With childlike fervor
A gossamer-soft hope
Tightly clenched
That these words –
Floating into the ether
Intertwined
With ethereal promises
On the wind –
Will grasp the palm
Of searching fingertips
Or sit upon the lips
Of some unassuming stranger
Or find their way
Into the open chambers
Of the heart
Where they may resonate
Like a comforting frisson
Suffusing warmth
Through weary bones
And reach further still
To soothe the soul
Embosomed deep within