You have blessed me with your face unexpected.
Every dream I ever had pales in comparison.
This old body can still have new dreams.
Even the ones I put off, because of the voices that say no,
I am pulling out, taking a look and thinking
The ocean pulls over the shore with benedictions
of ozone, salt-lavish froth over the toes.
Nature is always pointing me in the right direction.
When I feel as though I've come down to the last
bit of oil and the last bit of flour to bake my bread,
I'm sure you would like to remind me of a day
your Mother asked and even though it wasn't
quite the right time, it became the right time
I want to find myself born again full of wonder.
Everything that looks same old, same old
can become brand spanking new.
I can look at the waves the way
a child can about to jump in and be rollicked
into everything happy under the sun.
There are child-like parts that haven't heard a noise
from me, waiting to be called up into play.
And I'm willing, to be rebirthed.
I'm willing to embrace another facet of you.