34th way

it started yesterday. a scurry of feet and bright sunshine greet. a familiar hand ushered me into the complex aisles where i once laboured. picking up the appliance and a swing by for soft serve in the brisk of summer. we walked home, with our sweet fix, like little kids, for a moment free and careless, like a scene picked out from those feel good children's movies.

like chinese new year. the family dinner. the smell of finger lickin goodness. the bed where i once stood and sang in front of mum and dad. my music book. the scribbles of words to 'rhythm of the falling rain' - pitter patter, i felt like pied piper's peter patter. it reminds me of stories i keep hearing. of routine. of the same thing love does, year in, year out. like the ritual of rites, like the same christmas tree each christmas year, the same red shoes each lunar year, the same pair of white shoes each new school term. I'd rather be poor and know such happiness, than be rich and all alone in a tucked away dressing room. i guess there's a part of me that's still the country kid, the village folk, the simple guy wanting to make it in the big big city.

i wouldn't have it any other way. the birthday song in 4 different languages. there is a gentleness in the spirit of these times. so here's to you, my brothers, my family, my community. here's to another year.