I look into the night sky.
The clock is ticking.
The moon is sleeping.
I am waiting.

A little girl with a pure kind heart,
messed around a little too much.
The clock is ticking and I wait
for the moment the little girl change.

The little girl will become strong and kind
and valiant and fine.
Though deep inside she might still be shy,
a strong front she will put outside.
The clock is ticking and the time has come.

It is twelve of the very next day,
which many years back in a small white room,
the little girl was born in a pair of arms so warm
and laughter and tears coloured the room.
A smiling father with an exhausted mother,
but everyone in the room was celebrating,
for this very day many years back,
the girl reading this was born.

The clock is ticking.
The moon is gleaming.
The clouds are floating.
The dreams are living.
I am writing.

The clock is ticking and I say
I love you
and I will never regret having you in my life
and I wish you will always be happy on this day every year
because the clock never stops ticking
and people never stop changing.

But today is the day we celebrate the little girl who has changed
in ways big or small,
good of bad,
drastic or subtle.
We celebrate because
I love you.
*We love you.