Happy Birthday
by Dylan Wyatt

Today I’m twenty-four.
But I miss being twenty-two.

When the blades of grass
Were draped in morning dew,
And I didn’t stop to question
The joy I always knew.

And when I was twenty-two,
I missed being nineteen.

When the wildflowers bloomed
In the heat of waking dreams,
I left the past behind me,
My heart bursting at its seams.

And when I was nineteen,
I missed being eleven.

When I danced between the cracks
Along the winding road to heaven,
I kept walking the line, wondering
If I’d ever be forgiven.

And when I was eleven,
I missed being nine.

When the clouds whispered secrets
Only a child could define
Before the stars burned out of the sky
From the sorrow of my mother dying.

And when I was nine,
I missed being five.

When my first memories surfaced
Confirming I had arrived,
Now I’m at peace with the present
And the feeling of being alive.