Another Year

Happy Birthday.

Another year is only that,
I should not tense and tighten the chest,
I should not crinkle my fingers and fight to repress,
Nostalgia full of nonsense.

The final hours of the day are only that,
My sun will come again.
My sun will jolt my searching brain,
Into its current time.

The only aging to mourn for is that which has no presence.
And wisdom is congested in the petty pond’s surface,
When deeper, deeper I could go.

I am skating upon the surface,
Skating for thin ice to shatter the pretense in a plague of webs,
And I, the insect, plunging right into the heart of the great beast’s lair,
Surpass into the underworld of infinite truths,
And celebrate another year to gain.