It used to be that when the waves delivered me toward the shore, the ocean reeled and wound the strings that knotted through my salty heart.

It used to be that the shrinking land in turn diminished every woe, and opened up the world beyond the sun, the moon, the forever-fold.

It used to be…but the gravity has shifted, in the heart of this nation are the dreams that I have lifted, are the roots that I’ve buried, are the branches that I’ve tended; full-steam ahead, before I’m dead, let it grow where once it ended.

This campfire is an effigy of the man I was before your heart began to beat like pulsing flames, and drew from me the soot and dark.

All the things they say will go away, I throw them to the fire and pray the trade is fair, and the tales are true; that life will never be the same with you.

I know we say we cannot wait, but take your time, there is no rush; too soon you’ll bloom, outgrow your room, and leave our home with hollow hush.

Of course we’re excited for the moments, but they’ll end as fast as they begin, so let’s savor what we can never again: watching you grow even now from within.

I know we say we cannot wait, but take your time. There is no rush.

When we fell in love, we fell in fast, fueled by the loss of loves we surpassed, but this time it’s forever; for every year that’ll pass, each kiss is a promise that it won’t be our last.

Remind me, when I’m old and blue, when all that’s left are empty rooms, how much I feared the love that grew before you were even you.

Indulge me when I’m working through, adjusting from the life I knew, where once was one, now three from two, before you were even you.

Forgive me when I’m feeling new, when all I know feels half untrue; what little time to try accrue, before you were even you.

Believe me, when I’m got, I’m glue. Where hopes are few, we’ll hold them too. And I know it seems impossible, but I felt a little clue… the universe reached out to me before you were even you.