Essence: something that is, or exists...

          In every adult ever invented resides

A former tenant, a remnant of growth, an adolescent.

The essence of adolescence is a flavor,

          Delicious to some yet distasteful to others;

Most often with a dash of both.

Yesterday’s youth had a different flavor, an ancient

          Recipe repeated and refined through generations.

Today is fast food, the art of adolescence supplanted by convenience.

Before, the essence was subtle and special, a taste

          You could sense but not name.  Now the

Flavor is harsh, typical, the same everywhere.

If adolescence had been an animal, it would

          Have been the cocoon, halfway between

Crawling and flying.

Today’s adolescence is a chameleon, wearing masks of camouflage

          To prevent us looking closely.  Or a porcupine, armored on the outside

While trying to protect the vulnerable parts underneath.

Where once the transportation of adolescence was

          Courage, today movement is encumbered

By wishful thinking.

Were adolescence to be a business, we would have found

          La Botanica Majica, peddling the magic of life.

Today’s version could be part of any strip mall.

If adolescence were a time of day, it would have been

          Midnight, the cusp.  Today, adolescence

Is tomorrow, anything but today.

Were adolescence a sound or noise,

          It would once have been a question.  Today it

Is a shout, and a whisper.

Should adolescence become something around the house,

          It would have appeared a doorway or passage,

Rather than today’s closed door.

Looking back at adolescence as a place,

          We see it was a crossroads,

Now more of a street corner.

The machine of adolescence was paradox, a glue

          Complicated yet simple, only to now be

Anything new and easy, and easily cast aside.

Looked at as a character from another time,

          Adolescence was the Hero, a bigger person waiting to be born.

Now, it is James Dean, lonely in isolation, angered by neglect.

The treasure of adolescence was its metamorphosis, the simple

          Labyrinth path to adulthood.  Today’s treasure is a

Silver maze, tarnished and dull from lack of care.

© Bret Stephenson

2/26/02

For more information, contact Bret.

All material Copyright by Bret Stephenson 1997-2008
unless noted otherwise.

Last Updated December 20, 2008