My eldest son Will is 27 today.
Years ago, I came across a poem by American author Rod McKuen. For some reason, it really resonated with me, and became one of the (very few) poems I memorized. If for no other reason than it's about a 27th birthday, I'm including it here.
Some Thoughts for Benson Green on his 27th Birthday
Having just gone through the year myself
I know that twenty-seven can be hard.
But there are Sunday breakfasts
and April fields
and blue on blue
and green growing things
to change all that.
I know that spring is hard because you wait
for summer
and fall is hardest of them all-
because you must not be alone
when winter comes.
I know
that love is worth the time it takes to find.
Think of that
when all the world seems made of walk-up rooms
and hands in empty pockets.
I know your smile
and it is much too warm to waste on people in the
street
(though smiles are plentiful)
and
I know
that if you keep the empty heart alive a little longer
love will come.
It always does,
maybe just at the last moment, but it will come
You must believe that
or there isn’t any reason to be twenty-seven.
Happiest of birthdays. Son. I love you.
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