If only all

can get a hug

each day or so;

perhaps there won’t

be a single lost soul.

See the new borns

grow so fast.

At infancy,

they know

their mothers’ warmth.

. . . for there is divinity

in the envelope

of human arms.

When given,

it brings a sense of fulfillment;

When received,

. . . a sense of belonging;

When sought,

someone’s spirit is on the ground.

Either way, it can be done.

When deprived:

“Am I loved?”

“Do I belong?”

“What’s wrong?”

Perhaps “so long.”

The hefty price

of incarceration,

is the torment

of

its deprivation.

To hug

or

not to hug,

is not

even a contemplation. . .

. . . for it is easier

to put out

his fist for a fight,

or her mouth

into action.

But to give hug a try

when a thing

between two

goes awry–

is not even a notion.