Like a weightless, wordless mime,
like a baby bird watching mother fly,
I’ll follow your lead like a dancer,
copy your moves to avoid the red laser.
New to this world and in over my head,
you’ll hold my hand as we walk the thread.
You’ll explain the rules and guide my hand,
as I hold my breath and remember to stand.
Weak in the knees and warm in the heart,
I can’t rush the finish before we even start.
I’ll slow my pace and keep the tempo
and caution what feelings are prone to grow.
