If I Could Have a Birthday Wish
Envelopes with gaudily printed cards,
meaningless mass-produced wishes,
cheques to fly to the momentary moon.
Books instead of love
and tight smiles instead of belly laughs.
Leading to this day there were fireworks
in Syria, sent by the Pentagon,
there were cuts to the survival of the poor
and gifts to the rich and famous.
And our natural treasures are dying
and the killers are all the while lionised.
I guess that’s my birthday wish
from those who would have us dead.
I wonder if the gods of the cosmos
mark this day? I wonder if they’d grant a favour?
If I could have a birthday wish
I’d wish not to be dismissed to quick,
the fireworks turned to flowers
(could you imagine a battalion of orchid wielding soldiers?)
and the poisons turned to an elixir of life.
I’d have the rivers run free
and good health to the oceans.
I’d have my footprints be light
and my blessings writ large
and God’s grace be less heavy.
If I could have a birthday wish
I’d have community be strong
amongst humans and others alike,
I’d have a pure wind
brush my cheek, morning and night.
I’d have the sun shine strong
upon all of our backs
and generosity and justice
light the darkness of narcissism and greed.
I’d have an end to intentional evil.
But I’m as guilty as the rest,
as poisonous and violent in my secret heart.
If I could have a birthday wish
I’d end my own myopia,
see clear and do right.
If I could have a birthday wish
it wouldn’t costly success
or sycophantic friendships,
it wouldn’t be more “things” to consume
or more power to my arm or my tongue.
If I could have a birthday wish
it’d be love for us all,
no advantage to the strong,
no bribes from the rich,
and one more moment with my comrades,
my friends, and even my enemies.
I’d have one more moment in peace
with my wife, my lover,
my best of all friends.
If I could have a birthday wish
I’d wish for a meaningful life.
Peter Cartwright
April 2017
