I didn’t know it at the time.
That the pauses were teachers, too.
The delays were never denials, just deferrments,
A snooze button on my Veruka Salt screams, “I want it now”.
Even in the interim, the universe carries me somewhere.
I am a backseat driver while the universe is at the wheel, and I don’t know the terrain we’re traversing,
But she does. She hears my shouts for premature turns, unsuspecting pit stops.
“You are headed somewhere grand, sweet girl. Just give it time.”