Pre-Birthday Poem

So I'm celebrating Bobby's birthday for two days instead of one.  'Cause why not?

And 'cause tomorrow I am officially committing to post the "Day is Done" commentary, so to keep from having two posts in the same day, I'm doing one now.

I wrote this poem for Bobby in honor of tomorrow, and it took alot for me to post it on here so be nice.  I am not a poet in the very least, but I wanted to try.  What is that phrase that's so popular right now?  She said she could, and so she did!  At work.  In the space of five minutes, between tasks.  ADD brain is a wonderful thing sometimes, it allows you to multitask like a beast.

And as I feel I need a picture for everything, I am of course going to present us one!  This is a screenshot Morgan Bridges of Pinterest did.

This is called Cradle.

Eight-one years ago, you came into our world.

Were you born early?  Late?  Were you a good baby?  A fussy one?

Either way, you grew into a Good Boy and Hollywood paused its frantic pace to bow at your feet,

For a little while.

Then the breakneck speed resumed on Hollywood Boulevard,

Pushing out the old, bringing in the new,

And you were knocked down onto the concrete to find your own way back up.

You grabbed onto an offered hand that looked friendly, promised you escape and solace for hours – days – at a time,

But in the end, it lead you not to your haven, but to the grave it had dug for you.

We can’t know if you had a moment of fearful realization – of looking back – before you were shoved into it so forcefully;

Or if you welcomed it and plunged in with open arms.

But before there was a grave, there was a cradle, a cry, a little life that would grow into a sweet light for all who knew you.

This was the day you began.  Your charm, your loving spirit, your sense of humor, your loyalty, your gift for creating and entertaining… all those things that made you who I have come love so many years later.

I celebrate the fact that you Were, and that you still Are.

Somewhere only you know, dwelling in safety and sunlight.

Watching.  Hoping.  Smiling.  Living still.

For the grave could never cancel out the cradle.  You were here – you mattered.