Dance With Me

Take my outstretched hand

and don't let go;

come dance with me

amid the floral meadow.

We'll dance under the golden stars,

and bowing silver trees,

where fireflies dimly flicker,

in the embrace of willow's leaves.

A bubbling stream hums a melody

to entice us just to play -

you running along its earthy bank,

and I chase blissfully after you -

but the gentle wind swirls and makes a fuss,

because it wants to sway with us.

It tugs at clothes, and at hair,

even whips the stream for its mischievous air.

So once again I ask of you,

won't you join me in this dance?

To harmonize two imperfect souls;

causing ripples beyond our youthful years.

Let's stay close like a ballroom dance,

you take yours, and I'll take my stance;

working in tandem, beautifully.

Just wonderful you and little me.

Look how the flora taps at your feet,

the wind pulls at you to move.

Twinkling fireflies encircle us,

creating warm lights and quiet shadows.

Here's my hand.

Come waltz with me.

Let's dance under the golden stars,

and silver trees.

Reflection:

This poem is an invitation into shared connections and quiet, intentional moments that draw two people closer. It reveals the beauty that emerges when two souls meet, and the persistence involved in inviting someone into the space where you are - seen through outstretched hands and nature's responses to pull them together.

In 'Dance With Me', the dance becomes a metaphor for relationship itself, showing that the chase isn't stiff or burdensome, but filled with joy and playfulness as the relationship unfolds. It captures the delight of first meeting - the fire that glows when encountering that person you long to share your life with.

This poem reminds us that intimacy and love are not built through perfection, but through trust and the choice to keep showing up, hand in hand, again and again.

For me, this poem is also a reminder of how Jesus stretches out his hand towards us, inviting us to Himself - like a bridegroom offering his hand to his bride.

The poem ends here, but perhaps it's still dancing - these questions invite you to join.

What does "dancing together" look like in your relationships?

How do you respond when someone reaches out to meet you where you are?

How do you practice showing up, hand in hand, over time?

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