Will you hold my hand?

It crept on me.. without warning.. and gripped me. Silencing me. Immobilising me.
Rendered weak as I am... I stand. Ideas, opportunities stare me in the face.
So much to do, Such heights to soar. Countless hellos.. Whispers of goodbye. ah.. Open doors, chances. Seemingly pursuing me..
Dancing, they dare me. Come closer, grab me, take a chance....they tease me.They call my name. Its a whisper.. Its a shout...A resounding voice. How enticing it all seems.
Now I am on my knees. For that which once gripped me.. I now hold on to. Its weight overwhelming me.. I am overpowered. As I buckle beneath, My arms fail to reach out. To touch the sky. To grab it all.
Yet my eyes are open. Oh how I do see. I count it all..Yes I count. And I keep counting. It all passes me by. I rationalise, I justify. Yes.... Excuse after excuse I utter.Yet I keep holding on to my enemy.

Choosing the bud over the bloom, to walk rather than to fly..Yet its the season to flower.With my unclipped wings, I hold on to fear.. I keep grasping it.
I hear those voices. Arise... let go.. move... come...they say.
I am here, take the step, let me hold your hand I hear.
Should I.. yes.. Can I...???
This monster.. Its taken over me. And I hold on. Hold on to my enemy.

When the pain of holding on becomes greater than the risk of letting go..
Will I arise, let go, move?
Will I take the step?
Will you hold my hand?

The Language of pursuit

I have created this image in my head....a picture, the language of pursuit. I see him come, his presence so strong. Yes... my heart flutters, my spirit soars. He whispers in my ear, the sound of music. In his eyes, in the depths of them.. I see deep desire....only for me. In my minds eyes I see him... I see him move heaven and earth to win me over....give his right arm to see me smile, climb over high walls to steal a second with me.Woo me with his wit, charm and ever so sweet eloquence.

That's how I imagine he should be.

Then I see him.. yet him not... For when he comes, he speaks not the language I long to hear. He takes not the form of my fantasies. He has his own language. So foreign to me.

Am I hearing him? Why does he not speak a language that I understand? What is he saying? This language I cannot decipher!

My eyes open, yet I am blinded. My ears, seemingly hard of hearing.

I hear not.. I see not truly...the done and undone deeds,.. the said and unsaid words.

Yet if I knew his language...If he knew my language......This language of pursuit..
How would it be?

If his language be foreign, and differ from mine... should I learn to hear his, or should he learn to speak mine? This language of pursuit.....