for rachel, on her birthday

this was the best birthday present i've maybe ever received. it's a poem, from my dear friend (and sister from another mister) julia pickerill

if i was my mother

(or you)
you would have a box of gracelets and treasures and things that sparkle
wrapped in layers of brown paper
and packing tape, arrived today

Just On Time

to your doorstep.

instead
i am myself.

and you have - this.

(but you, truly, have so much more…)

you are a beautiful delight
a loud crashing pans

and cooking music
a brash blinding colour
a meal where no one leaves hungry.

you are an artist of humanity

drawing each one out

finding best sides

blurring colors

and constructing communion.

you are a laugh

that can take the place of deep sadness
and you are deep colors

and great effort

and making everyone else believe
that things might be different, one day.

you are found in the trying

you are found.

you are found.

and i am glad for the finding of you.