I stood there waiting for you.
The self your dreams are made of.
Unencumbered by your past,
A new beginning to an end that never was.
I never left you.
It is you who left me.
In fear of who you were.
In fear of who I am.
Living on the edge only seeing the abyss,
ensconced within your deepest fears.
Until I grabbed your hand.
But only because you let me.
I knew then that you were ready.
To see the chaos differently.
To see yourself differently.
I paused a moment and then called you by your name.
You answered and set your gaze upon the heavens. My how lovely a name you have.
You smiled and then asked me mine.
“Grace,” I answered.
“You can call me Grace.”