It’s not just another rainy, Sunday, afternoon. Walkers don’t just walk by, umbrellas waiting to catch the tiny droplets of rain dripping down window panes. The sun doesn’t shine just because it has to but because it’s your birthday. It’s not just another day or another year but another year you’ve lived, loved, cried, and most of all began a new chapter in your life. It is your birthday and not just because the calendar says so but because you lived to deserve it. May your pillow lay gently upon your bed and may your head rest lightly upon the feathers. It is your birthday and all because you deserve it.

I read a book the other day, it was one about all the things I couldn’t say. It spoke to me with words I’d intended to reach from deep within, grasping stories of betrayal and heartbreak but also ones of roses and kittens purring at my door. I read a book the other day, just on the corner of Main Street in a lonely market where people didn’t speak but they felt a connection anyway. We stared at each other from across the way feeling the same emotions but not saying so, just on the corner of main. I want to say these words, ones of healing and ones that bring others strength. I will return to the market soon to finally say the words I’ve always meant to say.

As I walked along the sidewalk I could smell the lingering flowers and summer floating toward me. The spring was coming to an end for summer was slowly approaching smelling of sunflowers and farmers markets.

As she sat upon her windowsill she watched the cars roll by and the nervous man linger along the grass just beyond the sidewalks end. She had hoped that one day she would work up the courageous to be someone in a busy city with dreams and deadlines to be met. She hoped that she wouldn’t be who she was becoming for she returned to darkness at night with nothing but an unfinished book and withering flowers to welcome her home. She would sit upon the windowsill to make sense of the man who paced the streets at night and the cars who rushed by in a hurry to be somewhere. She wanted to be a newly planted flower in a field full of seeds. She wanted to have a purpose other than sitting upon that windowsill. She told herself she would but she wished someone would tell her that she could