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For My Mother on Her Birthday
Flickering candles
(metaphorically, of course)
Wave us
(these softened beings)
Into the past.
Standing strong like steel,
Refusing to break or
Bend around the other,
Like considerate ultraviolet rays
do
the twist cause
A waltz
Never fit our personalities.
A constant gaping of black hole mouths,
Neither larger than the other but each just as
Damaging.
Meteors
(refer to any number of apocalyptic films for full description)
Crashed along the surface of our negativity,
Skimming like stones heaved across a glassy lake
(notice the simile).
Eventually,
The black holes swallowed
The steel
And the meteors.
(It was very similar to swallowing crow).
SO
That brings us to
Today.
To you,
Today,
I offer this reminder:
We
(these softened beings)
Have made it through.
Despite the risky
Risk of re-creating a clichéd
Shania Twain ballad:
“We beat the odds together.”
An adorned cake
(symbolically, of course)
Ushers us into a new state of
Mind with a burst of orange flame.
Make a wish.