Poem On My Birthday Poem by Gert Strydom

I see lightning bolts hammer-flaming down
before the rain
falls down in force like drops of hail
and on my forty seventh year
under a white hot sun
while the autumn is already busy
to skeleton at places around me,
rays burst through the steel grey clouds
while the storm subsides right there

swallows, finches and sparrows
flying up and down are calling
and some are sitting a lamppost full

and it feels as if my life’s cloak
is starting to unravel
and the cotton thread of it is thinning out
until it is almost worn through

and then you come
to decently wish me well
and it’s as if everything round me changes
to fit into this scene
and suddenly life is open and free

while we embrace
and I smell the freshness around us
and look deep
into your loving eyes.

[Reference: Poem on his birthday by Dylan Thomas.]