Forty-six years around the Sun
have taken me to Europe,
universities
and awards galore.

But year forty-seven
starts in my jail cell,
a felonious mistake
locks me in the glare of a crucible.

Nighttime nightmares
of a world with no darkness,
and I’m free
wandering a bright dreamscape.

There were so many
red flags,
screaming and shimmering
like fireworks.

But I didn’t listen
to the cries of adoration,
and there’s no birthday
candles throwing lights.

So flame on and
torch my soul
with penitence
and repentence.

Year forty-eight
I’ll start with
a spotlight and a strobe light
uplifting a restored soul.

No sunlight for
four months,
fluorescent lights
illuminate…

My desire to be free.
Happy birthday to me.