A birthday poem for my friend, Felicia…
I wasn’t there. I’m not one of those souls who can tell you exactly where they were,
how they felt.
I didn’t live in Camelot, expecting the sun to shine forever,
only to ache as it dimmed unexpectedly. Royalty silenced. Humankind changed.
And as the planet wept, as the citizens of earth collectively turned inward,
vainly attempting to stifle the pain,
the world continued to turn.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.
Though doctors and nurses were unable to tear themselves away from non-stop news,
the labor pains persisted. Time, though blindsided, would not wait.
And so tiny lungs gasped for sweet, sweet oxygen.
For that first fiery burst of over-the-speed-limit, barefoot-on-the-beach,
mad dash of life.
Inhaled adventure.
Yes, dreams were laid to rest on this date in history.
And entirely different dreams were set in motion.
Dreams that still burn, that still race around life’s carousel and beyond.
Brass rings dangle on strong, slender wrists,
as limber fingers reach for the next precious band…