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.