Waltzing in the Storm

I think back to the fleeting moments we've shared

conversations of passing substance,

your sun-kissed eyes slipping away

before they can fall into the void of my pupils.

I should stop. I should close my heart to you.

But then it happens.

A flicker of curiosity in your gaze,

your eyelids drawn into the rings of my own,

and in that endless moment,

our souls waltz beneath the lamplight of the space between.

I could live there forever

where the wind sways to the rhythm of the rain,

where the warmth of your presence

sends shivers rippling through my body.

Then you look away,

and I am left paralyzed,

trapped in my heart’s endless replay of that moment.

Every day, my heart waits for your voice,

to feel the Holy Spirit in the audience

as our souls perform their silent, sacred dance.

But those eyes belong to another.

And I watch, helpless,

as the tides of your gaze are drawn

toward the gravity of his ever-growing presence.

My mind commands my heart to let you go

to silence the civil war raging within me.

And just when the echoes start to fade,

when the last embers of longing burn soft,

the currents of your gaze

find their way back to me.

And just like that,

for only a moment,

we waltz again.