found and lost

I remember the coarse skin of a fingertip
caressing slim bubbles on a page.
I remember a half-squinted eye, closed, casting
backward toward memory.
I remember tidal waves of emotion reduced
to lapping dew, crawling over, over,
over toward the seeking shore.
I remember wearing down to numbness
the confused whorls of sense, and still
touching, tracing, tenderly
inviting Your path to the door.