The world is my oyster
A long time ago, on a warm, April morn,
tiny, wrinkled and glistening, I was born.
In a sea-side house, in a far-away land,
the sea was my lullaby, wonderland, friend.
I had gazed out the window, down at the sea,
the world was my oyster, it has seemed to me.
The possibilities were as many as the grains of sand,
the future had held promise, like a magical land.
Along the way, alas! that vision was lost,
along the way, somehow, my world got boxed.
Career, marriage and duties of family,
like a clock-work rat, it was set out for me.
Many years on the treadmill had taken its toll,
but lost in the maze, revolt grew in my soul.
To let fly her spirit, to make her voice heard,
that sprightly little girl, of long ago, yearned.
Through nights filled with anguish, days of ennui,
my spirit called to Spirit, to come, set me free.
From the depths of darkness, a tiny light it shone,
from the maze of misery, a way out was shown.
Free now of boxes, to choose my path, am free.
The oyster awaits. Happy Birthday to me.
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