We celebrate our birthdays
though in the mirror we grieve
the fact that inch by inch
we’re dying.
Yet
the forces of life and death
in fact in us
are unifying.
They in and out,
in every breath,
in life and death,
in laughter,
against a heart ranching crying,
reciprocally counter each other
like wings
when are flying.
Only in the dying
life
is death defying.
In each night of defeat
tomorrows’ triumph
also is implying.
Underlying of every expedition,
we find something uncharted
dreamlike
yet obstinately
undenying,
a plant,
that learns the amaranthine shade
of growing,
like an infant
in its every falling
and yet again trying,
like whiteness blooming in spring
from the ashes
of preceding drying,
like whiteness in melting snows
that again
in blossoms,
is self
identifying,
So remember my darling :
every sway of elation and dismay,
every palpitation of life and death’s display,
is the garden's way
to tell us,
to tell to the a vibrant butterfly in us:
no matter how short-lived:
"we are here to stay"
It is for electrifying
our deathless
abiding
birthdays.
