Ode to 42

Here's to the turn...

the intentional change

the shift

the looking up, every now and again, to stand both in gratitude, but also

in expectant hope for newness

a different set of spectacles

perspective

awareness

for the painfulness and beauty of the presence

the deep space of

ordinary time

where it hurts to sink in

and there is nothing more or

better to do than to hold

the one who desperately wants to

read Dr. Seuss

and refrain from strangling the not-so-little

boy who cannot remember where he put his retainers or

why it matters if you wear deodorant

and to encourage the girl who

re-purposes milk cartons and old socks

and to laugh with the man

who gets me like no other

Yes, to all of it

and to all of them...

and 

to the girl with brown hair

and blue eyes

and a soft gaze

and a heart that invites and wants to know more

about everything, really.

Ode to the squishy legs

and the lines around the brow

to the moments of weakness

and the ferocity of strength

may the 42nd year be filled

with the promise that you are indeed enough,

now and

always.