Birthday Poem (22)

Twenty-two, in a place birds fly
when the sky’s blue.
Up and down the rolling hills
come waves of sun rays…
To be in this moment of time feels nothing like an embrace.

So I go as I go, down little streets -
scared to look up and terrified to speak.
Will the morning come again?
I know nothing for sure…

except God is still good and Twenty-Two’s sadness is here. 

My dear shoulders,
your baby toes.
Till the moon decides to nest
love will continue to grow.
Rest my child, and always do your best
Aging is a gift for those desperate
to be blessed.