Birthday Wishes

You're supposed to make a birthday wish on your birthday. Sometimes its hard narrowing it down to just one. After stumbling into the door marked "Exit Only" at The Breakfast Club, Nancee stuck a candle in my face and told me to make a wish. It was the number 1 with a flame on top. After taking my first sip of coffee, I blew it out with a smile. There were greetings of good tidings and joy and several hugs by everyone else. The place exploded with customers when it opened so I left and went to the beach. With my feet in the water, the sun baptized me in a yellow light sent down by God Herself. Lost in thought, I remembered something I'd read ... "As I reinvent myself I'm constantly curious about everything, I can't wait to see what's around the corner in newfound art, entertainment and exploration" (Pam Grier). Then it was time for Sunday morning prayers so I went home, kissed the top of Sarah's head sticking out from the covers, went to the Beloved Back Deck and livestreamed Organic X. There are four blooms on the Hibiscus plants. Goddess shoves Winston, the little gay dog, out of the way to wish me "Happy Birthday". She does it in her laid back way, rubbing her head against my leg. When she's done, Winston, the little gay dog, tries to make up for it in volume, prancing underneath my feet without ceasing. An ocean breeze rustles Fran's Thousand shades of green and I can't help but believe that God is going a little overboard with the Birthday wishes. On Face Book, there are lots of birthday wishes and they overwhelm me. A seagull lands in the backyard under the Palm Tree with the oyster smile, coconut bra and grass skirt. He is mostly white, with a touch of grey ... like me ... and pecks the grass. Snapping to attention, Goddess flies down the stairs and chases it away. Goddess is determined to keep me young though Winston, the little gay dog, follows her and pees on the spot where the seagull was letting his feelings be known. The choir of birds burst into song. Thoughtfully I pay attention to all of these things. These are my presents as I continue to re-invent myself. It's the birth of the new ME. Micheal Elliott is no longer who he was. I'm becoming somebody else. I wouldn't change anything I've done, but am much more curious about what is happening next. So ... what do I want for my birthday? Everything.