Miracle Marks on the Wall

Another hash mark on our family’s wall
keeps count, commemorates another birthday.

A day to decide whether
to float meekly along
on time’s current in silence
or to holler like a newborn,
not in fear or distress,
but in proud defiance.

For we celebrate birthdays
because we’ve drawn breath
another year in a universe
where the odds are dead set
against the next breath,
against life ever being born,
against life surviving
even a single day —
let alone another year.

We celebrate birthdays
because, like every day,
life-against-the-odds
is to be celebrated
for the miracle it is.

So, Happy Birthday, Sister,
for the miracle you are.
Enjoy this day, your day,
and all those that follow.