I have certainly had more than enough time to consider my existence.
In spite of men who have praised me for my talents, that I did not rear,
I was still unable to look within.

Inquiries of my arrival here
rage in my tears
blood covered, yet, my screech is joy to their ears
my umbilical cord
it tethers me
still, I have been casted forth from my mother
the sun that shines brightly in the sky above is transfixed in its position until the moon gradually confiscates its earthly spot.
I learned to crawl at first.
Many moons pass, then, steps I would begin to take
I stumbled to win the race

wait.

If I fail, then still, I rose to save face.
An adolescent, but, still, I am determined to win this race
I am driven
stepping into my teenage years beyond the pace of my peers
foolish, a youthful mistake that I have failed to comprehend as I stand in the aftermath

wait.

Cycle of life
I emerge from the aftermath as an adult acknowledging my pain
standing up once again
preparation for another knock down
I am still driven
Yet, and now, I am driving pon dark roads.
Distressing are my most dramatic thoughts
I come to rest upon devised dreams

wait.

Dreams deferred drag the time of my reality
I am elderly
I am tethered
tethered, somewhat, to my descendants
newer life
though, it is that familiar cycle -
my family.

Considering my existence
I have looked within.
Now, peering externally, I am able to behold versions of me.
My eyes, their eyes,
their noses, my nose
they have become, currently, the unforgotten reflections of me
those precious angels of mine.

I behold them and smile when I consider this existence of mine.

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