As a child,
I experienced only the shadows of joy:
    the party thrown for a playmate,
    the song of the bird perched outside another's window,
    crayon nubs discarded by siblings.

I grew accustomed to second-hand joy,
and made do with it's fragments.

Now I bask, without apology,
in joy's direct sun:
    this party celebrates me,
    the songbird announces my name,
    these brand new Crayolas
    (64 of them in staggered rows)
    are mine–
    a rainbow box of Possible.

Text and image © 2011 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.