Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Happy Birthday to me?


Yup, today is my Birthday. Anyone who knows me well, knows that I am the poster child for non-celebration. I don't enjoy celebrating my Birthday but it does become a significant day of reflection. A day in which you size up your life, it's failures and accomplishments. Despite my lack of enthusiasm for such days I certainly hope that I have many more in my future.

Today, my mom took me to lunch and my wife and daughter took me to dinner for my Birthday. Enjoyed both not for the occasion but for the family I love. My son called me from college and wished me a happy Birthday. I never tire of his calls or IM's. My daughter asked me if I could take her to get her belly button pierced. I did. It was probably the highlight of my day seeing how happy she was. These are my birthday presents. Maybe that is why I don't need one specific day to celebrate. I find these little gifts come throughout the year.

I will end on a more reflective note. I often turn to this book "Revolution on Canvas", poetry from the Indie music scene, edited by Rick Balling. It is full of poetry from some of the best Indie rockers. This poem is by Russ Rankin of the band Good Riddance.

Blank Pages
When I stop living
When I am dead
When I no longer walk, talk,
Or breathe
When my insides stop working
Will I leave anything substantial?
Will anything I've done, said,
Or erected
During my brief tour here
Empower, enlighten,
Or endure
When I happen to pause
In the course of an average day
And think these thoughts
It's as if Time itself hits me
On it's way to wherever
It is going
In such a hurry
Why am I?
There are no answers for me
In this life
Only these long days
And blank pages to fill

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

night ride home
this speck of dust on the lens
carried to the side
by a teardrop of melting snow
revealing in the same way
a moon can be hidden
with one hand
looking past center
doubles everything
house lights and streetlights
twinkle delicately
the sleeping glitter
of whole universes
not glued down
here distant suns shine
foreign to memory
abstract as a prayer to Jesus

Bill Zuback said...

Joni Mitchell has a song titled Night Ride Home. Much different than your poem but both are very beautiful.