Standing in the garden
light rain spitting on my face
I puffed a roll-up and thought
my whole life has been a series of days
When I was baby I slept a lot
and then I was awake
I had no idea that I was alive
let alone that life was series of days
As an infant I woke in the morning
and stayed awake all day
till it was time to sleep again
if I was lucky in my way
As a child I knew each day was different
There were good days and there were bad
but most days were just days
when nothing happened.
I became a teenager
and getting through each day
could be a struggle at times.
Some days were milestones along the way.
As an adult I found that I could count
on some days being great,
like the day I got married, the day I started a job
or the day I moved into my first house.
I asked myself: 'how many days I have I been alive?'
Simple: that's just 365 times 67
that's 24,455 as of now.
That's seems like a lot. Wow!
Most are just ordinary days,
average days when little happens
but then there are the big days
the ones I will always remember.
I do not remember the day I was born.
I shall not remember the day that I die.
But in between there are so many
and some I would prefer to forget.
Some I have written down in diaries
others I have photos to remind me.
Some I have souvenirs to keep
and some are vague, mysterious recollections.
Each has a set routine of waking up
doing a lot of things again
that were the same as yesterday
and then something happens...
something big that stands out from all the rest
when life went off on a different path
(sometimes these are some of the best)
and some are just an incredible laugh.
But some are steeped in sadness,
tears, regret, unmet ambitions
lost longings, unrequited desires
and moments of astonishing madness.
But as you draw nearer to death
each day is an astounding success
not just because you are still alive
but because you add it to all the rest.