Follow You

I go with you in your travels from one end to the other Pacing onward to the other side and back again, Always near but not quite there. So remote and new are these end points with all the pleasures and hesitations in between. Is it alacrity Or curosity that poke you into motion? or the excitment of how near you can get The newness of it and even newer if you don't get to it that makes you stretch it even more? Or the fear that if you stop that's when you are closer to it, like you have never been before? losing yourself to it becoming one?