Twenty seven
It is the year of tequila kisses
Of laughter as deep
As a cool clear leap
Into Barton Springs
It is the soft towel
Warm on your skin
And knowing you are just
Getting started
It is the good book propped
On your knees
You are well into it, yes,
Enough to know the storyline
But the thrill, oh the thrill
Of holding the thick bundle of pages
Still to come
It is cupcakes the day before and day of
And all the days!
It is poems and magic and spun clay
It is stretching your hands, fingers, toes
Feel the strength!
And know how much is within your reach
And how many – friends, family, community
It is a run in the crisp morning
You and your breath and the wide open road
It is the year
When you start, thrillingly, terrifyingly
To realize you can go
Running, stretching, leaping
Towards the fear
When you can make that path
Yes, that one,
Real.
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