Blowing out candles together
In my reflection,
In the parade we all somehow walked through
Another year.
I wonder if, this in my new year,
I might wish instead of erase—
Stop getting rid of the imperfections,
Curated to strip away.
Peccadilloes kept,
Uniqueness held tight.
What if we are erasing proof
Of the wisdom we lived,
Upon the bridges of noses—
Even if uneven or too long—
Someone once said,
Imprinted upon us now still.
What if the streams upon my face
And down my chest
Are geography lessons?
We can blow out candles
With a child’s laughter.
My first memory of all memories
Is a birthday in preschool—
I wore a handmade crown,
Singing a song I made up on a field trip along the river,
Later excited to be double digits,
As we measure ourselves inside the door frame,
Hoping to grow older.
Aging—
Especially in these years
When life has been even more fragile.
Our bodies, lumps of clay upon the wheel,
Ever-changing.
Round and round we go.
Reflecting, honoring—
One full year,
Half a million moments.
We all deserve a bow,
I lean down to blow out the candles
For another year,
Even when I thought I couldn’t.
Layer of cake upon frosting,
Until reaching the top—
Of curves, letters, fire, and wax.
The singing,
The offering up again,
And then—
The applause.