Max Reif's poem is about the pleasure of looking forward to a trip taken for love. The speaker compares that anticipation to a slow drip of the sweetest nectar, and the image suggests something savored rather than rushed. Even the small tasks of getting ready, the poem says, share in that sweetness.
Then the speaker asks a fair question: once you finally set out, is it a letdown? The answer is gentle and a little uncertain. Perhaps, in a way, since imagination plays a bigger part in our actions than we realize, and the real trip may not match the one we pictured. But the speaker settles on a more hopeful idea: one journey ends at departure, and another begins.
The mood is warm, thoughtful, and quietly optimistic. The short lines and the break before "another / begins" slow the reading down, so the final turn feels like a small, pleasant discovery.