Thursday, February 21, 2013

Birthday Poem

In celebration of my 40th birthday, a poem that I wrote a few years ago on the subject:


Hark, friends and countrymen                                   So, treasure this day
for the time is upon us.                                              like a keepsake of time.
A day of celebration let us make merry.                    Rejoice in all that has been
Set aside all your cares and the woes                        and in the many joys
Which do so readily weary you.                                which are to come.

For this is a day of birth.                                           And do not fret
Years have passed, but let us not forget.                   that the day will end.
For the dear times are to us,                                     For that is the fate of every day.
like precious stones to the prospector.                      The sun will rise
He would treasure them all.                                      and then it will set.

Think back on the many days                                   Memories are like dreams
and all that has transpired.                                        of far off places.
Youth, with all of its stumbling                                  They seem so real
has turned to maturity,                                              yet we cannot see them
with all of its challenges.                                            and we sigh within.

When we are smaller                                                But those happy dreams
the world seems bigger.                                            are as real to the heart
When we are taller                                                    as anything we see
the world has not lost                                                in the big, wide world
its awesome scale.                                                    around us.      

But the times roll on                                                  Rejoice this day!
without our leave.                                                     And it let it not pass
The seasons pass                                                      without a remembrance
though we would                                                       of what the day means
bid them tarry.                                                           before it is past.

And we come kicking and screaming
to the present day, the here and now.
Loose the shackles of the past
but do not forget
what it means.

For we have but one life,
and though it will pass,
we have our memories
to keep us warm
as the days grow cold.


  1. Wow! This wonderfully eloquent and energetic poem has all the richness of a poem written in the 19th Century. One of the best things you have EVER written! It is sure to live beyond us.