Creation

The fingers desire touch,
the hand shall surely slide,
the eyes are so very slow,
the mind is not willing,
the heart is still broken,
the arms to weak to grow,
the legs still run so hard,
the feet drag in soft sand,
the mouth does spit fire,
the ears listen so sharply,
the nose recoils with distaste,
the chest burns with anger,
the soul dances in the sky,
the body full of these things,
such a wonder is creation.