Birthday Gifts
For my birthday, life gifted me my life.
Eating my favorite foods, any of which I can buy and make any time.
Hundreds of roses, dozens of peonies, growing in my neighbors' gardens on my daily walk.
Trees I can't begin to wrap my arms around, soaring to the sky, perfuming the air.
A babbling creek, a rushing river, a forest of children, houses and houses full of homies.
A community safe enough for just my skin.
Paper and ink and magical devices, all to record my every thought, my every whim, my every word, should I apply myself to that priority.
A body that gets to stretch and move and walk many miles and swim and swing and cry and feel every single thing.
A mind that can sort the knowns and weather the unknowns.
A heart surrendered.
The words of loved ones and strangers who are glad I exist.
Music that was never written and will never be played again.
Life is a million fleeting miracles a moment, an abundance so overwhelming I'd sometimes rather turn my eyes toward something scarce, just for the relief.
Every thing is here and now, everything available, everything of value, every. thing. It's all here. I know because I got it for my birthday, like I can get it any now.
