A Birthday

Out of a soft bed real early, into a big chair, cozy and ready for me. A cup of Columbian brew, a blank page with which to write, the bible, and a birthday. I don’t have a lot of time and too soon it’s onto a big towel beside a warm bath with beautiful, perfumed soaps and music, but this too shall pass in just the span of a morning.

In this moment, as the song I’m playing is called, I see something tailored from the foundation, this birthday on International Coffee day. 😉 I need to take a sip and take a bold way in this new day, blowing away the past on a 57th birthday. But I keep limping and dragging like a waif with a hanging, broken wing. Do birds gaze into the sky or fix their stare at the ground? I fix my eyes on a scrolling screen looking for lost things and lose myself again and again. I bite my lower lip and fear I can’t quite look up, so I square my shoulders again and say breathtaking things to me– future things of hopes and of dreams that I’ve heard from that Other Land up high cause one must believe. We all must believe or be lost in the eternal sea of quite lesser things.

Love hopes all things, believes all things, and love never fails. He’s never yet failed me. Sometimes I must flick myself on the forehead again and listen close. And what do I hear? It seems that I am a daughter of LOVE if I am nothing else at all and I have loving things yet to do and say.

So, happy birthday to me. I think I will look up.