It took me awhile to realize
that turning 40 is entering mid life,
entitled to crises,
existential, suffocating thoughts
about dying,
buying expensive cars,
going skydiving,
all the things you should have done
decades ago.
But turning 20 is just the beginning.
I am still rubbing the sleep from my eyes
left over from being born into this body.
My mouth cannot move fast enough
to speak of all the things I want to create,
to do.
Turning 20 is nothing but
taking another shaky step forward
on your lame, bowed legs,
still enticed by each wonder,
as if you were just
born.