My Time Is Near

I used to think being last

meant to be forgotten.

Overlooked.

Delayed by design.

I understand now,

last is where the lessons live.

Last is where we learned

how to listen instead of rushing,

how to build instead of performing,

how to wait without losing ourselves.

Black women know this space all too well.

We stood at the back of lines

that we helped create.

Carried visions that have bloomed

in the hands of others.

We watched others arrive

while we were still becoming.

Still healing.

Still learning the sound

of our own voice without apology.

Being last taught us discernment.

It has taught us that timing is so sacred

and that preparation is a form of love.

So, when we do arrive,

we arrive whole.

With settled boundaries.

With learned wisdom.

With many receipts.

We don’t run into purpose.

We walk into it with intention,

knowing that what is rushed

cannot be sustained.

The last shall be first

not because the world suddenly became fair,

but because God honors readiness

over noise,

depth over display,

and faith over fear.

We are not late.

We were being formed.

Now, we lead

with clarity,

with grace, and

with legacy in our hands.

The last shall be first, and

when we arrive,

we bring everyone with us.

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