Once Upon a Time a little boy was nine/ with a brain still soft intellectually/

His young perspective being shaped like freshly blown glass/ The little boy’s heart glows with passion in the same way/ he watches his elders entertain themselves with philosophy and tales of the times that were/ his little face beams with innocence as he watches the blueprint for his integrity/ the way hot glass turns from glowing red to crystal clear so does his lineage/ Cool as smooth glass, his soul is as calm as those who have true wisdom/ Cool like an epiphany that makes you aware of the singular conscious between all living things.

Once Upon a time a little boy was nine/ he traveled through time metaphorically/

His curious eyes study the silver whiskers of the guardians he will eventually become/ he examines the faces of alpha males at play/ he sees skin bathed in sunlight like his own/ shades of bronze and earth protect warriors with rebellious hearts and bold ideas/ arthritic fingers influence the mahogany of chess pieces with velvet on their undersides/ Scattered about are deacons and ministers who sit across from war veterans and factory workers/ a love of language flowing through everyone’s veins/ The little boy can feel the subtle vibrations of their baritone voices/ they duel in verse as rooks, bishops and pawns glide over diamond squares of dark and light/

Once Upon a time a boy was 9/ He wandered into the kitchen predictably/

Always curious about the female form/ always searching for women with hearts like his mother’s/ Loud laughter and folly filled the air besides the aromas of the oven/ Meals for small armies sit atop the same flames that heat curling irons and Virginia Slim Menthol’s/ revolution is the air and the little boy can smell it here as well/

Once Upon a Time a man turned 39/ trying to recreate the happiness hey used to see/

The youth were no longer interested in double Dutch buses/ baseball cards and Bugs Bunny on Sunday morning/ the women looked at kitchens like a lioness would look at a choke collar/ the men speak on the tendencies of dick riders every time cooperation happens/ making teamwork seem uncool like raising your hand in class with the answer/ fear nesting in so many hearts the warriors now are a faithful few/

Once upon a time a man turned 39/ and he forgave himself/

He didn’t beat himself up over his choices anymore/ he embraces the ways of old but knows that evolution is imminent/ his appreciation for homeland and horizon have a better balance/ Moving forward towards the book of the future the letters that spell fulfillment come into focus/ life has rewarded him with optimism and the gift of verse/ a slave to passion he may well be but he’s not a slave to validation or opinions that are not sincere/

Once Upon a Time a man came to find/
How to live in the moment and be conscious of the here and now.