Here's a bit of the Ordinary that has transcendence built right in. BIRTHDAYS come and go with irresistible regularity. But what ineluctable delight! Good wishes, smiles, hugs--even if obligatory--and, when and where appropriate, POTLATCH ceremonies of one kind or another, accompanied by ritual song and fire. My sixth grandchild is 4 today. It's been a pleasure in my dotage--literally, I dote--to descend from the loftier zones of Poesis to compose commemorative verses in the form of a Limerick for each and every one of them (and more on the way from my 4th son, I hope). So for the sake of public posterity and the fun of it--I'll share HERS with the Myriad Readers:
There was a young girl named McKenzie,
Whose birthday became quite a frenzy.
She turned upside down,
And fell to the ground,
Right on her little Backenzie.
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