Singularity

"Singularity" There is something quite different about today. I feel like time has stopped alluding to the moment ahead. I feel like it has left my senses open: the city doesn’t close in on me; the cars don’t break the calm; the air breaths into me as I fill my lungs. I am at a loss, though, as to why this moment should be special? So even if I can’t put a finger on exactly why, - I’ve concluded this: These moments you remember, they are like those childhood memories of playing on your favorite tree, of racing down the school hallway or, - like today, of standing out on the street, waiting for the traffic to pass by. They may not seem particularly special, but they are, in my reckoning of it, the singular moments that define who and what you are. And right now, what I have felt, is but the very instance - change (!) disturbed reality; the very moment I became more than I was. ***I lost most of this poem, so it was a difficult test to accept a different version of what I first imagined. And, yet, it is always healthy to try.