Slainte

Sit a little while and drink with me

i would pour you a glass of poetry

tall  and clear with intent

 

may it taste

~ of all the summers that you were young and free enough to graze your knees and elbows in the theatre of play

~ of that first strawberry-sweet kiss that formed your heart as a puddle

~ of that endless sky full with twinkling stars that blew away your concept of time and brought NOW crashing through the walls of the world

~ of that first realisation that you were you and that no one else peered out through that lens except perhaps life’s mystery itself

~ of that day you understood pain

~ of that first book, the one you could not put down

~ of rain in the night when you did not mind

~ of rain in the day when you did not care

~ of fireworks that explode from the base of your spine to crown in glory at the top of your head

~ of love, pure and deeply known

~ of love, lost

~ of children, coming and going

~ of age reflecting back all that is won and lost in the mirror of experience

 

…and when you finish the glass may you reflect that all things must pass and it is in the savouring of each and every swig of life that our enjoyment is found.

 

submitted for Real Toads Tuesday Platform