There once was a hug so powerful

at the very moment the hug

was sealed, it became the strongest

centrifugal force in the Universe.


The things that were falling apart,

fell back together. Buildings that had

crumbled, rose from rubble. Loose

leaves returned to their trees, the

once scattering wind yielded and still,

holding the face of the Earth in its

cool bare hands.


All that was dust

formed flesh. The connective

tissue of every snapped ligament,

every torn tendon, every broken heart,

grew back unto itself, circulating

the blood and binding the knees

of the disenfranchised souls

who bent to kneel under the sky

where the planets that had fallen

out of orbit re-aligned, blinking

like bright red stars.


Like a large magnet, the force

of the hug pulled lost children

from their graves, up from icy

river beds and through the

metal doors of abandoned cars,

out of the iron bodies of the adults

they had become, from the schools

and the churches where they went

to die, back to the gardens where

they could grow again.


At that instant, no high-fives

were missed. No wink or "hello"

went unnoticed. What was unrequited,

did. Every phone call received, every

line drawn to its end, to the ear

that was waiting to hear,

"I didn't forget about you..."


Each stray shoe found its pair.

The world completed its rotation.

And all the jars were full.


And it was maybe then that I

thought I should tell you that

I love you. I thought something

big must be said. But no words

could match the power of being

there, at the threshold of the door

to the wide open World, at the

edge of this constant cliff where

we let things break, drop and drift -

bound by the sweet simple scent

of your shoulder.


--Nicole Brending