KINETIC

a black & white photo of a person’s shoes by Zach Camp. (Source: Unsplash)

Potential,

That's what Mama called me,

Long before I breathed—

A prodigy, from my days in the matrix,

Her very own little Jimi Hendrix.

On unsteady legs, I laid my foundation,

Mores and words, propriety and instruction,

Coursing through my veins is energy pensive,

With every exhale, a plume of wanton fate.

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But I'm tired of fishing in uncertain waters,

Throwing pennies in the well a-wishing,

Time to see, Time to do, Time to be.

To stop building castles just in my head,

Time to make mistakes but still live free,

To start fulfilling all the prophecies said.

I lace my shoes, refusing to remain static,

I'm not potential —I no longer am.

I'm dynamic,

Fluid, in motion,

Truly kinetic.