Not Yet

Oh the transient resilience of youth,
the buoyancy of outlook,
the spring of step,
the pillowy skin, soft supple vibrant,
the glossy hair,
their growing excitement with gathered friends,
lithe bodies exuding sensuality,
the boisterous voices,
and the bravado of life in front of them,
cultivating reckless escapades,
yet, little capacity to glean nor judge.

While they bounce and preen,
spy and gossip,
hold them to your breast,
show them loving intent,
then, relate those wonders and aspirations
quests and quandaries you had,
and still do.
Ever the desire,
they will absorb such empathy,
more likely they will painfully
stumble into it,
a nonlethal bit of bitterness
taking them over the rocks,
like a relentless riptide
of self discovery.