Dance with me he asked
I hesitantly accepted his hand
His hand is large
And holds mine firmly and gently
Respectfully he leads me to the dance floor
I feel the eyes of others on me. . . with him
He knows what I feel
So he invites me again
Dance with me…
I accept
I am not completely sure why
But there is a sense of safety
And adventure
That draws me
As we begin to sway to the music
He holds me firmly and gently
My self-consciousness slowly begins to wash away
I feel like I did as a little girl
Chosen, special and cherished
Dancing with my feet on my father’s shoes
The object of his delight
He leads and I follow
I instinctively know this is how it should be
I sense the storm of circumstances
That I felt before he asked me to dance
He shifts a little
To recapture my attention
I sense reassuringly
There will be enough time for that later
Holding me firmly but gently
I am back with him
Completely
I let myself sync with the rhythm
With the music
With him
Fears I was not even conscious of
Begin to melt away
The longer we dance
The deeper his love pours into me
His love and fear
Cannot occupy the same space
The rhythm of his love realigns me
From fear
To faith
To hope
Dance with me. . .
Always. . .
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Beautiful! I adore the image of the dance.
Love this! What an image!
Thanks Robin! I trust you are well . . .
Blessings,
Andrea