A Birthday Gift

It is not long, not as history goes,

Thirty four years, most half forgotten

Except for the great joys,

The sorrows and fears,

And, who knows why, random bits

That now seem quite meaningless.

I know.  I’ve been there, done that,

Eight boring, exciting years ago.

And so I must find words for you,

Words that mean something significant,

That say something about life.

You must never stop growing,

Never stop changing,

Never stop taking chances,

Never stop making mistakes.

Never find black and white,

They are illusory,

As are most simple choices.

If you are lucky you'll never stop

Being a child, being curious,

Trusting, getting burnt, trusting,

Finding joy that is so fierce

It makes you hurt but

You would rather die

Than be without it.

Life does not begin at

Thirty four or forty,

It begins each day

With the sun and the rain of dawn,

And if you believe that this day

May be wonderful, may be all flowers

And love and touch and comfort

And jobs well done, well, it may be.

And if you don’t think like that,

Then it probably won’t be.

Life is attitude of mind fuelled by enthusiasm.

Not every choice you face is your choice,

But how you face it, that’s your choice,

Your ultimate freedom.  Life is not always

What you make it, but it may be what you

Hope it.  And 34 is so young that there

Is still almost endless time for folly,

Glorious folly, for learning and for hope.

The hope may not be for now,

May not be for tomorrow,

But hope for someday.

You must hope,

For in hope, there lies chance,

In chance there lies hope.