Unsollicited Grace Poem by Frank Witte

In my mind I see traces of dawn on your face,
caressing you in your sleep.
In my mind these images spawn without a trace,
sourcing inside somewhere deep.
In my mind I sense this unsollicited grace.

In my heart I feel you awake while I do sleep,
as little tremors of life.
In my heart I stand guard while somewhere you do weep,
a lonely saturday's strife.
In my heart I sense this prolific rhyme to reap.

What it is I do not know,
and neither whence it came.
Feeding awareness is slow
when you have but a name.

Its origin remains dark,
intrusion without trace.
Can love exert just a spark
when you see but a face?

Just some odder game of chance,
or simply heads or tails?
What kind of solely inner stance
conjures desire from mails?

Emotions based on few words,
gauging chances so slim.
Are they strophes of a dirge,
a catastrophic hymn?

In my spine I sense your peaceful sleep, while I wake,
giving the world a brighter tone.
In my spine signals are transmitting, what's at stake,
to which mistakes I am prone.
In my spine I feel the urge to shiver and shake,
to converge these roads alone.

So you say that it is strange,
feeling clos' so far apart.
If we let it for a change,
could'nt it be a start?

A road no one knows to end,
no destination planned.
Just an honest 'n true attempt
for hearts perhaps to blend.

And in my blood winding in endless life-filled whirl,
is a picture of your face.
And in my blood, patterns of divergence and curl
testify to your name's grace.
And in my blood your mere existence can unfurl
banners of love's gentle case.