Birthdays

You don’t know how many you’ll get.

Horizons don’t draw closer, they just are.

They sit on life’s periphery,

Reminding you that there’s something beyond what you see,

The curved earth dipping into eternity.

At 45 the simple lesson learned is this:

Be kind, appreciate kindness.

Kiss and appreciate the kiss returned.

Put music on and listen to the thoughts stirred up by collected notes.

Feel the breeze, close your eyes and remember others.

Try not to give up, unless you give up.

If you do, grow back, don’t look back; move on.

When you read a phrase you like, read it aloud –

Let it roll on your tongue like a blissful dog.

Enjoy food.

Hug even when it makes the other person uncomfortable.

Close your mouth to senseless arguments.

Leave your mark on this world in hearts and minds,

The place erosion cannot file away.

Sit on drafty mountain peaks,

Wade in cool streams with jeans rolled up.

Turn your collar up against the autumn winds,

Find shelter in doorways from sideways rains.

Life is sensual, and senses can be hard.

Acrid stenches, physical pain at the touch, deafening noises,

The taste of bile, awful unforgettable sights.

Senses can be good:

The scent of memories, the warmth of an embrace,

A soothing piece of music,

A meal made from simple ingredients that satisfies the tongue,

Seeing the ones you love happy.

At 45

The reminder of my age is more to me than

The popping candy in my knees and greying chest,

But a hint to abandon the worst

And appreciate the best.

You don’t know how many you’ll get.

Horizons don’t draw closer, they just are.

They sit on life’s periphery,

Reminding you that there’s something beyond what you see,

The curved earth dipping into eternity.