Will and Way

If there’s a Will,
Then its hands will tremble at your touch.
It will try to draw away from you because it
isn’t used to being held like that.
Its hands will be cold at first touch, but will warm
under your embrace.
There will be soft callouses on the fingertips from
constantly pressing against the strings.
The sound is clipped, short, and angry,
its hands clenching and unclenching as it stands, strong in its resolve
and sterling in its repose.
It sees possibility, it sees an answer, and raises its hand to point at it because
A Will doesn’t ask questions, a Will knows the answer.
But it clings to you, because despite its steadfast resolve and its isolated mind,
it reaches out for you, and holds on tight with those trembling hands.

If there’s a Way,
Then its hands will snatch yours up before you can even reach for its own.
It will hoist your hand up high, the adrenaline thrumming
through its veins can be felt even in your own hand.
You can smell the perspiration, sharp and sweet
Radiating off of its warm gripping hands.
It will stand, pulling you up with it as it rises above
and it squeezes your hand, holding it high above your head and you hear its voice,
Strong, immortal, and loud.
You hear the song its hands make as it’s free hand cups around its mouth
and it screams “There is a Way!”
And as you hold its hand you feel hope rising inside of you
because if there’s a Will on one side
And a Way on the other…
Things don’t seem so bad.