Mother's Fifty Second Birthday

I woke up this morning,
In the only bed I've ever fit on,
Because it's the bed you bought,
Especially for me.
I woke up this morning,
Wrapped like blissful mummy in the sheets,
You chose over all the other sheets,
That were not soft enough for me.
I woke up this morning,
Like the child I will ever be,
In the most beautiful room,
I've ever slept in,
Because it's the room that you built,
Especially for me.

I washed my face and I smiled,
And followed the sound of laughter,
Out into the kind of sunlight,
You only find after a night of rain.
There you were, rising with a squeal,
Wrapping those familiar, soft arms,
Around all the jagged edges of me.
And before I could say Happy Birthday,
You said how good it was to see me.
How good it was that I could be here, today.
And we opened the presents together,
While your daughters sang the song.
Papa Bear joined in when he could,
His love shining through all the gaps,
In the song he couldn't sing,
Because he's never been good with lyrics.
Even to Happy Birthday.

The dogs barked and danced,
Around you as you laughed at every gift.
There's more grey in your hair now,
But it only frames your smile like a dusty halo.
And the newer wrinkles on your face,
Do nothing to hide the miracle I see.
We spoke and laughed and drank coffee.
Together.
Your two daughters made of laughter and fire,
Your son made of ancient hope and song,
And your husband, made of fertile earth and stone,
The kind they can rest cities on,
The kind that can sustain a forest.
One dog lay at your feet,
Running after something furry,
In his favorite dream.
The other lay in the corner alone,
But I saw him shyly wagging his tail,
Every time he heard us laugh.

There were dosas for lunch,
Fresh mangoes for desert.
Three cups of coffee each,
And the ice cream you keep,
Stuffed in that old freezer,
Waiting for the still joyous hands,
Of your incorrigible brood.
The day meandered through gardens of joy.
We spoke deep into the night,
I told you my stories, you told me yours.
We laughed and we shared our light.
You hugged me long and tenderly,
As I whispered Happy Birthday Mother,
And good night.

Then you smiled and said,
Today was the best birthday ever.
Especially because we could all be there.
What can a son say to that?
To someone of such depthless love?
Of perfect understanding and compassion?
Of light kisses and patience,
Even after the umpteenth fight?
For apple pies to make the Gods feel left out.
And the greatest shortbread cookies ever,
That you bake a batch of,
And leave in the center of the pantry,
Waiting for me, when I alight.  Every time.
I'm a poet because of you.I'm worth the breath I take,
Because of you.
I'm alive.  I exist.  I am happy.
Because you are in this world.
And you're thanking me on your birthday?
Silly girl.