I give myself a cheery wave,
I deserve a good start at least.
This time is more confident, knowing, loved.

This time
The reflection stays and basks
in the warmth of the love reflected.
The smile is calm, accepting and comfortable.

What once was a shell
has cascaded as it rolled down the hill
gained momentum,
picking things up along the way,
gaining speed and ******* soaring.

Shell no longer, my bounty is full
and I couldn't be more grateful.
My insides are starting to match
my expectations of my outsides again
which feels good.
More than that--I feel like myself.

Heya friend!
I call to my reflection.
Her eyes crinkle and she smiles
throwing the peace sign,
Then she gives me a serious look
and points to our heart
and mouths:

"Protect It,
But Don't Waste Your Potential.
Go Love. Be Loved. Be Love."

She turns to go,
But over her shoulder she turns
and says:

"By the way, I'm proud of you.
I'm proud to reflect who you have become.
You deserve all the happiness life can bring
and all the sadness that sharpens the joy.
Now the goal is to experience everything,
Take it all in,
Don't take any of it for granted
and worship life.
Love and worship really living."

My reflection doesn't leave me,
Even when things are rough these days,
I have learned a lot in days numbered, years, decades,
I can't reclaim my youth
but I can avoid its mistakes for my own sake.

This world is scary enough right now,
People sowing the hatred that snuffs out light
That breaks the glass of shops and places of prayer
and homes of people
who just want to be able to live their best lives,
my hopes for the future dwindle low
but my candle still burns,
and with a thousand candles
and two thousand feet
and ten thousand fingers raised
maybe someone will see
maybe it will cause change?

What will it take?
I hope violence isn't the answer.
I have a family to raise.
A life to live.
In the community I want to make friends in.
I don't want this,
But I have to be a good example
To the generations who come and will
Need. Good. Examples.

I feed my reflection positivity now.
I feed my reflection ferocity and the willingness to speak up.
I feed my reflection hope with motivation to enact change.
I feed my reflection the willingness to accept flaws.
I feed my reflection patience to understand others' perspectives.

A few things have changed though.
We hardened up a little bit.
Around the block a little bit.
I don't put up with narcissist *******,
I handle myself with decorum but push me
and I bite back,
Verbally. Don't talk to me
as if you already know me

I have friends and you friend
are not a friend so go back to
Your friends, this conversation
Is at an end.

What feminine people go through
while you can come out stronger,
it takes a lot of tumbling to get that
gem nice and shiny.

Starting a new chapter,
Me.
I think we've made good choices so far
that lead us here.
There are some weird bumps ahead,
But I think with the support of partners
and loves and lovers and friends
We will help each other get through this
Fighting when we have to,
Leaning on each other,
And never forgetting what we're fighting for.

What do you see when you look my way?
Do you see me, or do you see something else?
Do you see all the imperfections I possess?
These imperfections make me feel less.
Like the shell of a girl in a picture frame.
Do you see what I see in the mirror looking back at me?
A body, all deformed but shapely; this body has had two beautiful babies.
What do you see when you look at my face?
Do you see the unevenness of my eyebrows and the squint in my left eye?
Maybe there are enough glasses for it to hide behind.
Do you see the freckles splattered on my face?
The sun hasn't been gentle on this aging face.
What do you see when you look at me?
Do you see my darkened eyes, so deep and dark that the colors almost don't shine?
Do you see this hair? It's starting to thin with little strands of gray.
What do you see when you look at this aging woman who is almost forty years old?
Maybe…me?

Fingers like fiddleheads,

Weak knees like

One-thousand-year-old

Trees,

Justice in a life lived long—

Making the wear and tear

Worth it all.

A Berlin building. Sunbeams of steel
made to shine in suns of future’s gold,
now dreary, dimmed and forced to kneel
to the timeless gods of growing old.

Its shining future could not last.
Sinking in a golden fade, a forgotten grail.
Of sunbeam ore, new futures are cast,
bright dreams unbound by fear’s black veil.

From the forge of steely sunbeams
comes a new grail of sunlit dreams
and the tireless gods’ tired reign
is overthrown for another day.

self-deception gets
stronger, as i get older -
not any better.

In the dawning of my years, I've found
A love that makes my heart abound
With joy and laughter, sweet and true
I'm happy to age with you

As time marches on, we grow old
But our love only grows bold
Through wrinkles and graying hair, we'll see
The beauty in our love's history

We'll reminisce on days gone by
And cherish every tear and sigh
For growing older has its charms
In each other's arms

I'm happy to be in love with you
To face the years, both old and new
Hand in hand, we'll walk this stage
And grow older, but never age

So let the years come rolling in
We'll face them with a sweet, contented grin
For in each other, we find our youth
And the eternal truth

That love is timeless, ageless, free-
And in your arms is where I'll be
So, let the days turn into years
I'll grow older with you, my dear.

It took an abstract realization,
something that I had never noticed ever before.

Where there was a semblance of monotony
there existed the essence of change
the actuality of reality
even to the smallest degree, such as the subtlety of how fast, or slow, my locks grew,
in centimeters.

Oh!
The informative nature of such a nuance amplified my rage!

Teenage angst was somehow removed with its perpetual sway
it crawled slowly constantly prompting our celestial commander to descend
solar illumination abated
nocturne shielded its rhythmic gait in a way
the presence of this frame cordoned off at 15 years
that made its movement seem a hasty thing
in its grip, initially, I was a child
now, I am a man
I lavishly lament the awkward promptness of anything I have gained.

All in due…

Was I due to manage it?
Over moons, many a pressured slumber
I rest still
my education
my locks that grew
subtle that pace
wisdom I have gained
that familiar melody of change
the alpha that arose
until omega was due to settle the earth
hands, arms, that consistently illustrate the change – “tick, tick, tick”
oh, that familiar tune it plays.

Being older,
my eyes can detect its forceful ways
unsubtle
however, I can manage it
I force it to behave.
Although, it still has me bound tightly within its clutch forever
yet, still,
I have synchronized our pace
the older I become it grips my hand tighter
together we are trekking my lifeline
now, I comprehend it.

Now I have time.

Jonah Singleton 2024