A Spring Birthday
Although at 5’6” I could hardly be considered short, I have still sometimes wondered what it just might be like to be taller. Really tall, as it get-things-off-the-top-shelf-without-assistance kind of tall. Might be fun. I have also, on occasion, wondered if the world might look different if I could gaze at it through brown eyes instead of blue. Would the colours be a bit deeper, do you suppose? Would sunlight feel stronger shining down on brown hair instead of the blonde locks that have always been mine?
However there is one line of my biography that I have never even entertained a quick thought about changing. That is the date of my birthday. I have always adored having a spring birthday, one that often falls so close to Easter, as is the case this year. I simply love sharing my birthday with bunnies and lilies, chocolate eggs and new hats. Today I received a card from an old friend that said, "I am fairly certain that given a cape and a nice tiara, I could save the world." Having a birthday that falls smack dab in the most beautiful weekend of springtime always makes me feel just like that.
Tomorrow is my birthday and Edward and I will be outdoors in all the beauty of Spring from morning till night. And as a birthday gift to all of you, I’m sharing one of my favourite poems. By Mary Oliver, of course.
Happy Easter to you all.
Morning Poem
Every morning
the world
is created.
Under the orange
sticks of the sun
the heaped
ashes of the night
turn into leaves again
and fasten themselves to the high branches ---
and the ponds appear
like black cloth
on which are painted islands
of summer lilies.
If it is your nature
to be happy
you will swim away along the soft trails
for hours, your imagination
alighting everywhere.
And if your spirit
carries within it
the thorn
that is heavier than lead ---
if it's all you can do
to keep on trudging ---
there is still
somewhere deep within you
a beast shouting that the earth
is exactly what it wanted ---
each pond with its blazing lilies
is a prayer heard and answered
lavishly,
every morning,
whether or not
you have ever dared to be happy,
whether or not
you have ever dared to pray.
