THE GESTURE

I was awakened

perhaps by animal sounds

outside our cabin

perhaps by the brilliance

of the full moon

lighting up the room.

I lay there listening

to the whispering breaths

of the others sleeping.

Then in the nearby bunk,

My friend turned

And her breathing harshened.

The other sleepers began to stir

Disturbed by the sound,

The noise, of her breathing.

As I touched her, just enough

to break the pattern,

the moon slipped behind a cloud.

She awoke in the dark,

turned and reached out blindly,

laying open her hand for me to take.

I placed my hand in hers

in answer only.

She held it as though

I had asked for companionship—

comfort in the night.

When I lifted away my hand.

she turned back into her dream.

In the morning

She would not remember.

But I had lain awake, listening

to the night quiet sounds

to the soft gentled breathings,

pondering the truth

of that one simple

unconscious gesture:

a reaching out…in the dark

offering…opening

so generous…so trusting

…so vulnerable…