They call my emergence, eruption
As if I was on the boil for long
Or just a boil 
That decided to appear unannounced
For no reason at all

Why call me wisdom tooth, I asked?
Because you appear much later in life, they said.
Why not then, a wisdom moustache?
Or, a wisdom beard, I asked
Well, because no one asked.

So old school it is to think that age = wisdom
When fools walk through life
And age without wisdom
As if life walked past them without their noticing,
Wisdom tooth intact

Many make space for me, I know not why
While some don’t, I ask not why
It is hard to be there and not be noticed
Or to be absent and not be missed
I, a mere vestige
 
In the age of use and throw
Let my presence be a reminder 
Of your path to today
The nuts, berries and raw meats I crushed 
Years ago, so you grow

In this, the age of presentation, the grand brand
Let my corner be a reminder 
Of my part in taking a punch 
Even if the jaw takes me for granted
I, the invisible one

I don't fit in easily
Jostling for space in a crowded cavity
With others in ivory, yellow and milky
A circumstance not of the host’s creation 
My expulsion though, his sole decision

I ask what my life’s message is 
As I am yanked away from cozy confines
For being too crooked or too big
Too troublesome or coming in the way
Is being inert, the only way?

Some bloom where the sun shines
And some in the shade
There is life in the deep and dark
And on the hills and plains
Know your place, just be the part?

Who is more powerful?
I, who can inflict pain
Forcing tears, all remedies in vain
Or, my host, who can banish me
Without even a by-your-leave

Why call you a host and not a parent?
I, born of you, take refuge in you
At times a misfit, sometimes taken for granted
A fear of separation, a lack of attention
A belonging sans intimacy, my condition 

Why stay unmindful of the other?
My host and I journey together
Who knows if it’s all the way
There is the eternal 
And I, just a mortal.

Image: Sam Williams, Pixabay