How long I have fought against the grain,
against my natural rhythm
my internal clock ticking
counter to everyone else.
As a child, I wanted to sleep
but my father
and the sun (streaming through windows)
had other plans,
banging and clanging,
the beat of cutlery disentangling itself
for a breakfast ready too soon.
As the mother of a young child
I adjusted to the quick beats of another’s heart
up early to greet new adventures
while I, groggy, still clung to dreams,
straggling along in his wake and, finally,
ready for the requirements of school.
There was, I think, a brief interlude,
between childhood and parenthood
I wound my own watch
set time to my own desires
late classes and jobs and evenings under dancing stars…
And now I find myself unclaimed
in a strange undetermined no man’s land
between two rhythms,
my beat discordant,
not quite my own…yet.
But the possibilities of time – my time –
stretch before me.