Turning 41 (Birthday)

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Grown man looking at the past
Through a magnifying glass
To see where the journey was stopped
To smell the roses. The times
That are not flamboyant, just cameos,
Sometimes attendances, that stay
With you not for the food
Or the liquor – they are forgotten fast –
Only for the shoulders that know no lip
Intention and anchors in that lock
Of clavicle to clavicle, ribcage to ribcage
And what else but the anniversary of that day
You embraced light for the first time
To revel on old memories
While you turn a new leaf,
On your tree-book of life, that fate waters,
While God shines from afar.

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