Wanderlust

He was warned before beginning

his choice was not for faint of heart,

but he had loved her deeply

and that was cause enough to start.

He had known before the others

that this path was his to take,

and he was set upon it

both while dreaming and awake.

Thoughts of the journey warmed him,

a hot and fueling wanderlust

to convince her that he loved her

though she'd never learned to trust.

True, the journey was exciting

but on every precipice

another climb surmounted

to convince her she was his.

It wasn't that her heart fell cold;

he had seen it burn before -

a single, private audience

she dared not to encore.

He would have to be persistent

and clever in approach,

for without an invitation

it was sure to read encroach.

With his right step he was patient,

and with his left step he was kind,

until one day he noticed

she had begun to change her mind.

With each step they took together

the ground began to thaw;

her old familiar patterns

replaced with new and growing awe.

The journey would continue

and at times return to start,

but the familiar paths we travel

are the fastest to the heart.