let it take its time. let it drift down the river from the top of the mountain where it was closest to God let it be touched by the hand that crafted your soul only that hand knows exactly where it will fit.
let it take its time. let it waft into the room like the smell of sun-soaked rose petals and the perfume of the love you lost but never truly had in the first place only that love knows exactly where it will not fit.
let it take its time. let it leave the room when you enter because it is too shy to wave in fear that it will remind you of the waves that crashed against your lonely body only those waves know exactly where it will withstand.
let it take its time. let the blessing tap you on the nose and then dart away like a snowflake that does not turn the lake to ice the ice that you cracked and fell through only that lake knows exactly where it will not withstand.
let it take its time. and when it arrives let it in. greet it like an old friend even if you have never met. let it stay. give it a place in your hand and hold it to your heart.