I always said that “There are no second first times”,
I always thought that “things will never be the same again”,
How wrong I was, how stubborn,
Second first times happen just as frequently as first times,
Fruits of coincidence, children of aborted premeditation,
Offsprings of fate, propagated by unconsciousness,
Like a virgin, touched for the second first time,
Hearing the bells ring with every angel sigh,
Discovering what has already been discovered,
As if it never were, like pioneers in a familiar land,
Playing poker, never knowing who has the upper hand,
Looking at the everyday from a new angle,
Challenging what has been taken for granted,
Granted we never take it again for granted,
Every instance seems like an emancipation of the self,
Raw emotions double-checked by trial and error,
As an infant’s voice tries to liberate itself from the chords,
Through the toothless gum in the mouth,
And ends up a long muffled whisper,
A wander in a world of wonders,
Just like the very first time,
Only coming for a revisit.