Life was unfolding beautifully like patiently crafted origami art rigidly holding its own, stretching itself, recounting details of the journey.

This was the moment I wrote about on the neon green poster board I transformed into a visual vision. I still remember glueing clip art of big crowds and microphones while sitting on the round tarted rug in the middle of the spare room of my parents house, soft jazz hugging the walls as the windows welcomed Miami sunny summers.

I enjoyed summers at home. A break from the cold competitive campus life at Columbia University.

Simpler times I thought as I found rhythm in the timely taping of note cards beating the palm of my clammy hands.

They said 40 million people were viewing from hand held devices and another 12 million on a more traditional picture glowing from roaring TVs. None of my previous writing prepared me for this day - but when the White House Chief of Staff calls you answer.

I spent the last decade beseeching the attention of the academy. “The Oscar” and I finally made eye contact when I was handed 13 inches of golden excellence for Best Picture and Best Screenplay.

But on this day in front of of 52 million people and the President of The United States of America I was taking it back to the beginning. Grounding in my roots. Poetry.

Poet Laureate. Reciting at the Presidential Inauguration. My stomach folded up like origami as I sat front row and awaited my time to address the country poetically.