It freezes you in place,
A cold gust of wind from the North.
It locks you in your home
And has you hover at the window.

It freezes you in place,
A fear of where you are heading.
Your only measure of freedom
How far away, the walls.

It freezes you in place,
A mirror that holds that other you.
Those eyes are always looking back
When you chance to look at them.

It freezes you in place,
When you embrace the immobile.
Tiny tendrils of inaction
Sliding over icy skin.

It freezes you in place,
But a thaw melts the icy clutches.
A thought, an idea, a chance –
Anticipation is a burning fire within.