Climbing Clouds

Who are you? I reach out. Her silhouette against the bright, near full moon is all I can see.. Long hair, flowing gown and eerie look apart, I try hard to catch a glimpse of her face.

There was a time this was so easy. Firstly, it wasn't night, there was no moon wreaking havoc with my powers of identification and certainly no silhouette to deal with. It had happened before. But now, from all the faces I've seen, and people I've longed for, there is this one silhouetted figure against the moon. On my darkest night, this scenario has been my only source of light. Even as she turns, her face I see not, though the glint in her eyes says all I need to hear. I know not her voice. I see not her face. It haunts me, again. I long. I crave. I imagine, but I fear as I do. That which I desire the most I will seek out, and may or may not end up disappointed. But disappointment is the least of my worries now.

I know not patience as a close friend. Only in times of comfort do we toast. Yet in jest we try, have our own little test. I lose, badly, every time. I laugh, every time. Because then, every second longer I dare, and am capable of holding on, I pride myself knowing that I did. I can. I just don't want to. And when I realise that. It pains me. Why? Why must I wait again? The answer is in my head, my mind is okay. My brain is okay. Yet this screech from within, as my heart claws up the nerve to my brain, etching marks, like nails on a blackboard, I can't help but hear, divert thoughts, and cringe with the pain I hear and the sound I feel..

"Walk", I say. And then I look around. The cloud has disappeared. I get up, and walk. Look ahead, with my eyes, and not my mind. It's easier that way, even if it's only for a few seconds, and then I'm walking in my clouds again. Lost as ever.