The Flame

When I close my eyes,
I can see your eyes, and your piercing glance
I feel as though you can see through to my soul.
I am frightened, not by what you might see,
But of the possibility that what I see
is just an illusion.
You say my words echo your thoughts
….can this be true? Are you real?
I shared my thoughts and feelings with you,
Something I now realize I do not share with others,
except through my writing.
For they came with tears and a broken voice,
My hopes, my dreams, so real, so vivid…..
but never realized.
So few understand these things…..
to find someone who does
reinforces my belief that it's possible.
But at the same time somehow frightens me.
I fight myself to keep from stepping back,
Like a child who has touched the fire,
but is still drawn to the fascination of the flame,
reaching out hesitantly with fear,
yet an overwhelming compulsion
to try and capture the beauty,
remembering that the wonder they seek
might scorch them.
Do I draw closer to the flame?
Or do I step back in fear of pain?

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SLG
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