Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them. – Mary Schmich
I’ve been waiting and dreading
And yet also dreaming of the day
You would ask me this question.
The day you would come to me for advice,
Flushed and heady, sparkling eyes,
Full of that somebody new.
What will I say to you my love?
It will be a wrench to see you all grown up
And yet such a sweet victory too.
But truly…there are no directions for this.
No instruction manual, recipe or crib notes available.
You must wing it on emotions and stirrings of lust.
Look for chemistry,
In the worst of clichés,
Such as hearts that skip a beat
And falter
And are resuscitated by warm lips.
And soft words.
But,
Don’t ever think you can time it,
Nor tame it,
It is not yours to possess,
Or to have or to hold.
It’s organic and mysterious,
And grows in dark places.
Between words,
In the rain,
And on the sea.
So the best advice I am able to give,
Is this simple message,
Without form or clarity,
I will shrug my shoulders and say to you,
That you will just know,
You will simply just know.