Compass Rose

If a compass measured romance and love, it might point North toward you,

But it also might guide me West

For fun, despite a harrowing view. Or perhaps,

East will have what I'm looking for, a place to greet the sun.

When roosters crow their morning song, I'll have already packed and gone.

For South bound love to work for me, I'd need a steadier stride.

No fault of mine, or yours, or anyone's,

It's just not meant this lifetime.

But a compass doesn't measure these things,

Now or ever, and thank god. For if it did,

I'd be unmoored, thinking I was wrong.

Wrong about all the times I left or all the times I stayed,

Untrusting of my gut and the variables of each case.

No, romance cannot be measured thusly,

And so I'm left to say

That love will guide itself to you,

Just don't sit down and wait.

Move about the world as if your lover were always there,

Because they always are, you see?

It's you who really cares.

Your self-love is better than all the romance in the world.

No corner of the earth provides a love that heals

Like fennel, or any other cure.

So, love yourself, my friends, and I'll stay busy loving me,

And if our paths should ever cross,

We will be complete.