Hand in the Ice

You press your palm against
the glass of a frozen lake

The cells in your hand begin
to contract like
they are squeezing blood from a stone

The nerves surge
numbness up the spine

This is how it feels to feel, compression
of data in the brain, blood
resisting the urge to solidify

By you, I mean me, alone on the lake
The ice a conduit to connect
the surface tension between
a human hand and God
if there is such a thing

How much of this can I take
before the gloves go back on

Can I leave my hand behind
to permanently feel this fleeting form
for you to find centuries from now?
Will you hold it and feel heat?

Do you know the cold
of molecules slowing to absolute zero
or the beam of a star lightyears away
exciting every particle of your body?
​
When I lay hands on the ice
I am reminded of this cool abyss
​and the warmth that pushes back

-Peter Stein-