I get to listen and be taught by living
masters in my craft
I am amongst the youngest between them
I am there to soak up it
again
I take cement to cloudy city days
and break all expectations places on me
as I create the path no one thought could be carved out


It is not my time yet it is theirs their blooming flowers mine, ours, the world’s to appreciate

but it is indeed my time to learn
to sit in a kindred embrace of the art of life
the divinity that language can point to
it is my time to stir world in my belly