On This Day

On this day,

the beginning of my 58th year,

I celebrate 

in the only  way 

I like to celebrate

 milestones 

of passing time.

I come here. 

I sneak out 

to my crowded 

dining room table

which is now 

my writing space,

while all those

 who need so much

of my time, 

my space, 

my energy

are still in bed.  

I want to be alone

with my tea

and my furry friends, 

if they care to join me

but atlas 

they are too lazy 

and sleep in

this morning. 

I ignore the books 

piled high 

on this makesift desk,

the pages and pages 

of notes

scribbled...

yes... literally scribbled 

onto notebooks 

and loose pages...

notes 

I intend 

to get to someday 

in my many, many 

yet to be complete 

writing projects. 

The mass of wires 

necessary  for me 

to transfer thoughts 

and images 

onto this machine 

are tangled 

around my feet....

while the somehwat 

neglected cameras 

and equipment

 awkwardly 

clump together

for comfort,

collecting dust 

on top of the 

dining room hutch,

 a place 

they don't belong.  

There is a plaque 

on my table 

from the college 

I used to teach at,

recently opened 

from the purulator package 

it came in. 

It was 

a birthday surprise,

I suppose, 

saluting 

my retirement

 two years ago, 

when  I

thinking it would be

best for all

because my body 

would not behave, 

snuck out 

the back door.

I didn't think 

anyone noticed.

The gratitude journal, 

a thoughtful friend 

gave me 

on my birthday 

four years ago

is open 

and I can see 

the scribbly writing

on today's entry 

that reads

"Thanks for 58 years of Life" .

I feel like 

I accomplished something.

 I have made it 

to the bottom 

of the pages...

the last year 

of open entries

and I know somehow 

that means something.

I can hear the faucet 

in the messy  kitchen...

 dripping.

It has to be replaced 

but I know 

that won't get done 

anytime soon.

I can't afford a plumber 

or a faucet

and wait for others

who are so busy 

doing their things

to do 

what they cheerifully say 

they will do.   

The roof is leaking.

There are big brown circles 

on my ceiling tile.

I drop my eyes,

 telling myself,

that on this day

the beginning of my 58th year...

I will not look up.

So I look down 

to see a very red 

pinky finger

busy keeping up 

with the others

dancing along the keys.

It is three times bigger 

than my other pinky.

I let an infection 

I got from the tiniest 

of openings

over a week ago, 

go too long. 

This little finger  

just didn't seem 

as important

as all the other things 

I had on my plate

so I told myself ...

it would go away. 

It didn't .

I will probably need 

IV antibiotics

which sounds like overkill, 

I know...

but is  the course of treatment 

for such a thing. 

I tell myself,though 

on this day...

the beginning of my 58th year, 

I will not look down. 

Instead, 

I look out 

the windows 

that surround me.  

The blue sky welcomes me...

well not "me",

it does not know 

this  "me"...

It welcomes eveything ...

in such a loving, 

accepting  way.

Understanding

in some way

I can't explain

that I am 

a small

but significant part 

of that everything...

I relax

into its embrace.

When I do

I hear 

the most beautiful muisc 

of robin song

being played 

amongst the branches 

of  my favorite 

companions.

I settle into 

this precious moment 

on this day,

 the beginning of my 58th year,

and I breathe.

There is a beautiful sprig 

of lavender 

beside me,

a gift 

from another friend 

who knows me 

better than she 

thinks she does.

I breathe

 in the sweet, 

familiar scent

and allow 

the healing aroma

to comfort 

this clump of flesh 

I call "me". 

 I can feel them 

in my eyes 

for some reason 

wanting, 

and needing 

to come out,

to trickle down 

the aging skin of 

these  cheeks.

I know better now 

than to resist them.

They

 and whatever 

buried secrets or stories 

 they hold within 

their liquid truth

just are 

what they are...

not good, 

not bad,

just energy

flowing,

passing through,  

like all things in 

 Life 

are meant to do.

I relax 

into them. 

I relax 

into all 

that surrounds 

the everything 

I am.

I breathe...

on this day,

the beginning of my 58th year, 

of precious Life. 

© Dale-Lyn, July 2021

All is well!