The world is spinning
The days are counting down.
Summer peeks through the clouds,
disguising itself as raindrops
instead of boldly showing its golden crown.
Everyone is moving, working,
barely breaking to play.
So this does not seem like such a special day.
But today, if I stop,
I can hear
the whisper that alive means something,
more than my brand-new twenty two years.
It is not cake or parties
or candles melting fast,
but strangely found in the faces
of friends singing,
eyes closed and hands clasped.
It doesn’t mean first kisses
parasailing, or sky diving.
It means so much more
than any twenty two years has yet explored.
And though Mother may have been married
at this very strange age,
though I may feel behind,
that is not my stage.
Alive is the journey,
the daily oughts and ought nots.
Alive is a story
with many years from start to end.
Alive is the color of that kingdom
I’m longing to arrive.
Alive is breathing plus.
It is not always happy;
It is not always fun.
Even birthdays may have
their moments without sun.
No matter the turning, hustling and moving,
no matter the noise and many goodbyes,
no matter forgetting until the day is done,
alive is so much better than I could summarize.