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From Charisma to Jason on her 18th Birthday
I hear "What do you want for your birthday?"
A lot this time of year,
Though of course the other 364 days they're saying
"Careful what you wish for,"
So smug and certain of a fledgling's inability
To even discern -- much less feed -- her own desires.
Granted, they could be right.
I must concede a certain shallowness
Behind my yellow schoolgirl dreams:
To see my face magnified a hundred times
And given its rightful place of worship
Alongside La Via Ventura and La Via Rodeo,
Or to have my name writ in the stars
Along the Hall of Fame
To bear eternal witness to the impact
That I left on this world
As deep as elegant handprints in faux granite.
If pressed, I may just admit,
(To the delight of my critics)
Such yearnings may not truly be for my long-term--
Or even immediate --
Good.
But if my birthday wish had the power to encompass you...
Oh, sweetheart, I might yet trust my desires:
I would hold the sun in place every morning
Just below the horizon till you awoke,
So that you'd never miss another dawn.
And nightly I would cast your name in stars--
Though not the tinsel glitter-painted ones
That line some piddling Walk of Fame
Under the constant tread of mortals' shoes,
But up among the nebulas and novas
In a far-reaching firmament, vast,
Yet still too small
To hold the yawning fullness of my adoration.
I would make my golden hair
Cascading over your shoulders
The Fleece that you so desperately seek;
My arms, enfolding you, would be your Argo--
Rocking you gently on the lulling waves;
Bringing you home.