Ink & Coffee

petrichor

The smell of earth after rain; beauty, after a thunderstorm,

A drop of rain sitting on a single blade of grass, rendering it a subtle sheen,

The light rhythmic tapping of a rain drop falling from one leaf to the other, 

Petrichor, beauty after a storm

A puddle of rain, sitting just under a tree, 

The sound of birds chirping excitedly,

The beauty of earth’s revitalization after a downpour,

Beauty after a storm. 

You, too, will embody petrichor

Does he appreciate your smile? 

Your beautiful mind? 

Your iridescent presence that lights up the room? 

You deserve someone who appreciates even the most minuscule things about you

When I was young, I eagerly awaited adulthood 

And an intoxicating, drunken passion 

A first kiss under the blazing sun, 

By the side of an ice cream truck  

In mini shorts and a cropped blouse, 

Showing my feminine physique. 

I could not wait to wear makeup, 

To finally mimic my mother and become the lady in front of the vanity, 

With lipstick and delicate porcelain skin  

As an iridescent pearl necklace curled around my neck  

I longed for the liberties that followed adulthood, 

Like the ability to wander and go anyplace, 

in a vehicle that I could call my own   

And decorate as I please 

To the innocent eye, 

Adulthood is a splendid morsel of delight, 

Like an indulgent chocolate truffle holding a caramel filling of newness and amusement, 

Coating the roof of the mouth with a delicate and buttery sense of liberation 

An explosion of excitement  

However, what one does not realize is that the truffle hides the many troubles of growing up 

Like the depression one faces from a broken heart, 

Or the insecurities that arise from a critical self, 

Or the loneliness that comes from the constant wander.  

If I could become my younger self, the one who awaited a coming of age, 

I would tell myself to enjoy my adrenaline-filled games of tag, 

Or my endless bouts of laughter with friends, 

Or the creative games I had with dolls, 

And all other forms of childlike fun and wonder. 

 I would tell myself to cherish those carefree moments,

As that is what they are now

Faded moments in time, now vague memories in a worried mind  

And I would tell myself to engage in the present,