When you brush your fingers with a tender stroke
Across my cheek when we’re altogether broke.

That’s balsam.

When you’re on your way home from a humdrum 9-5 day
And you find a gal admiring your work on the subway.

That’s balsam.

When your heart’s in the right place
Even though you’re feeling a little out of place.

That’s balsam.

And what do you do with this balm?
You let it heal you as it sinks into your heart’s palm.

And you give thanks
For that, too, is balsam.