The Human Touch

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by Méia Jacobs


‘Tis the human touch in this world that counts,
The touch of your hand and mine,
Which means far more to the fainting heart
Than shelter and bread and wine;
For shelter is gone when the night is o’er,
And bread lasts only a day,
But the touch of the hand and the sound of the voice
Sing on in the soul away.

(Spencer Michael Free)

Ain’t it crazy
How we try to fool the heart
But oh, it is all in vain
The heart knows
The human touch
The longing, the calling
We are here to love
Love it mad
Love it all

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Méia Jacobs

Hi, I’m Méia – a tree lover, artist and wanna-be poet with a passion for garden gates, art, homes, history, and audiobooks. I'm growing my roots in beautiful Door County, Wisconsin, helping others do the same, and loving every minute of it.

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