Happy birthday to me—
I wake to the quiet glow of another year,
a soft unfolding,
like petals loosening in morning light.

The air hums with possibility,
with laughter waiting just beyond the hours,
with the promise of candles
and the warmth of wishes whispered.

I carry every year with me—
some heavy, some feather-light—
yet today they feel like jewels,
strung together on a thread of living.

Happy birthday to me,
to the one who has weathered storms,
to the one who has danced in small joys,
to the one who keeps rising.

I celebrate not only where I’ve been
but the open road ahead,
the birthdays still to come—
the endless sky of becoming.

And so I smile,
I breathe,
I say it again—
happy birthday to me.