Cake and candles,
Knives, cutting to spread sweetness.
Air bent, to blow out the same fire,
That it fosters.
Air captured, in stretches of color, balloons.
Filled with good wishes from the breath of a loved one.
Light dimmed, to let the fire shine.
Strange how birthdays start with a plunge into darkness.
The moment just before the fire's demise,
Eyes close, hearts open and wishes are made.
Wish to the fire and put it out;
So when it lights again, it's within me,
With the zeal to make my wish come true.
This moment is the most intimate,
In a day of boisterous celebration,
The moment between me and the maker.
Hope renews within closed eyes.
Then comes the moment between the fire's death,
And the light's birth;
Momentary darkness,
a vision of a life without vision.
Hope is tested after creation.
From a chosen darkness to an expected one,
Hope takes a journey around the soul,
Just like this body has taken one around the Sun.
But what starts from within,
Always ends within.
And all that remains is its essence.
Fiery hope.
Knife in hand, poised I wait.
Eyes capturing moments,
Disjointed memories of smiling faces,
Something to remember.
Melody reverberates with good wishes,
Hands coming together, haltingly in claps.
A celebration of life, on the date it was birthed.
Flour, eggs, oil and chocolate;
Have morphed together, to create memories.
Knife strikes, but draws out sweetness;
Sweetness shared, births joy.
Another cycle around the Sun,
But the Sun shines on the same,
Another 365, yet the earth returns to its position.
All that's moved is within me,
for 365 sunrises and sunsets.
And for the next 364,
I will carry forth this flame.
To put it out again on 365,
Born again.
