Birth = Magic  

In the confinement
of my crib and the
Great Expansion
of my little mind,
every plastic bird in
that swirling mobile
above my be-
dazzled eyes
was a planet,
a galaxy.

God.

And when I could walk
I could run and when
I could run I could ride a bike,
and when I could ride a bike,
I could fly.

And if I could
drape a towel
over my little
shoulders I
was a
super
hero

and comic books
and summer days
and finding the perfect
peace of shade was
like burrowing
into a hole of
Swiss Cheese
on the moon

And when
I was hungry
I would eat my cheesy
way to China,
or some new
world that
would be
home until
I realized I
missed my
family.

Mom and Dad,
do you have any clue
how much to me
birth = magic?

© 2006 Mark Kozub