Birthday Poem

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

Birthday

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.