Saturday…Saturday..It’s somebody’s birthday out there. Have a happy one.
.A yakky crow is over my shoulder right outside, making some demand. I wait in the sound of it and then she stops the yak giving me time to listen to my own mindful patter that stirs words to the top of me, preparing to roll outta me. I still hear the sounds of morning; the crickets and the cicada, the little sparrow family growing inside the black plastic gutter tube under my car port. Babies peeping away for some wormy nibblett in the flutter of mother’s wings.
I wonder, in the pulse of morning sounds that wrap around me, what my rhythm will be. Will today be the day to shed my old body, the hard husk of me waning in age, tender on the inside; a girl hopscotching the neighborhood in a giggle against the odds of years passing? Youth still fills my heart in the show of sag and gravity’s winning. It is a good thing, a joyful expression, where wisdom at last holds youthful wonder in a carousel of pretty ponies contained in a circle of prance and pleasure.
Girl meets Geezer, Geezer lives with her girl
in a bubble of old hippy and passions still
yearning to be free of limitations where
peace still has a chance and magic fills
the days with wonder and delight.
It is never too much to ask of an Infinite
Universe for anything and everything.
Impossible has no refuge in the all is Possible
This old husk will be shed, geezer and girl
set free from gravity’s pull and the spark
of electric blue is all that I’ll ever be ever more