she expresses her fatigue. her need to fall down in arms of security, to be wrapped up in warmth and safety...she gives off cues. i need rest. i need to be held close...to drink in your scent and to flourish in your protection. i become who she needs me to be. i keep her afloat...using my body as her cradle and my voice to soften the brightness of her world...the energy that pulls at her to keep eyes open and senses alert...the constant truth that beckons her to keep watch, for there is always something new to learn. i become rhythm and stillness, finding a steady beat among the thoughts that tug each other in my mind. i become her night and i dip her down into the nest of my arms so that she may hear my beating heart and be kissed by the depth of my love. i walk and she fights. she pulls at my skin and twists about with determination as if i am forcing the dreams to come upon her and overcome her will to be present. i follow her lead. i make room in my arms for her body to position itself however she desires. i allow for her hands to squeeze my flesh and for her small frame to climb mine...searching for some kind of sanctuary...for a break in the exhaustion...for something just to take over and allow her to relax. she falls into my cradled limbs and pushes hard against me...finding comfort in the first small moments and then wishing for change, discovering her discomfort and everything that lacks in her present situation. it leads her to a new position, only to hold it for a solitary flash of a second, and then sends herself back to her prior existence...and the cycle continues, as if she were returning to a habit too hard to break...holding on to its familiarity and comfort, only to realize how truly uncomfortable it really is...her entire being aching for something different, for something new and fresh and possible. reaching for something that brings her more...that takes her into the peace of her soul...and brings about the beautiful slumber of finding herself amidst her calling dreams. and i notice that i grow uncomfortable and restless watching her in her journey towards acceptance. i feel the rise of frustration and the desire to hold tight so that she isn't allowed to dip back down into the truth of what doesn't "fit" her well...i want to sprinkle magic dust on her forehead and bring her into calm and tranquility...and i notice...that she parallels my own journey...wanting to press hard against the pillars of life to know who i am and where i stand...aching for change and the stillness of comfort with my being...reaching a place of rest where i dance in the realm of my dreams with bright colors and vivid truth...and finally accepting that it is a journey, that it takes time...and that i am held close by the love that is found around and within.