daylight

When the days were younger,
they were longer.
When we were younger,
we were infinite.
The day came to blow out the candles,
and we clapped
and sang
with joy.

But when the sun rose on the next day,
we felt no difference, within or without.

Now, the days are older.
They are shorter.
There is never
enough time
for us,
despite our constant rushing and tumbling and turning,
every which way.

We are no longer infinite.
We realize how limited the daylight is.
The day of balloons and frosting
and sparkly paper has more
meaning,
and someday we will wake up the morning after
and feel.
Because we didn't feel then.
We didn't know sadness or pain.

Today we are younger
than we'll ever be.