Grace is, as you do.
Form is as you heighten. Somewhere in the midst of existence is the marvel that you are.
Any that find you, are blessed for it. Such is insight in your envision.
This day is special to history, as with its yearly celebrate, for its kindness blurs the very depth of reality’s perception.
The unreal of attribute superseding even the surreal in a sentiment of tribute.
For the shine will not wane, the ethereal glow that lightens the stupor enlivening into radiance’s sway.
This day to birdsongs and lovingly fawn, doting to the fabric that listens to glisten in endear and ensign.
The timekeeper of skies of ancient mysteries, the regale past the hours of periphery.
The ground that breathes a little deeper today, the sun that shines a little brighter. The Moon as it peers upon your smile, the stars that shimmer a little longer as if just to catch a wish upon your sighs. The solar system switches resonance to your heart strums. The galaxies hitching along for a ride by your side.
Happy to you, and all that is yours, the universe singing a hum to belong.
What a day to be grateful. To move inward to find expression.
The cross-correcting currents in even make, contemplations pure. An odd way to wish, outpouring to affections’ underscore.
A profound precipice this, as with everything of your reflection.
Passages of learning usually in me find your mention, in commune almost like turning to tell you your heart feels like home. But the intensity of the words aside, the place of inner content in reside. The well-wishing sentiment tends to sprint rather than run its course. A cursory glance and fortuity’s balance. A tight-rope to emotion in aesthetic alliance.
Degrees of certainty sifting through errors of parlance.
Revolving doors to the wisdom in ever curling corner smiles, and restful manifest to your grace in childlike eyes of shine.
In a loving universe, your path would be to be loved. The former for me, an aspiration, the latter I perceive the path to you.
If I am a hymn, I would be yours. If life is an ode, then beside you, mine be the road. To hum a melody until the wind traces it to you in a song.
I suppose I could have just said happy to you,
But all of nature and the sky too, to you glow thoughtful and heart-warmed.
To be grateful to all of existence for you, indeed the loving universe wizened to its surrender and splendour.
In a heart-rendered hug, happy to you.
A coat of quotes and passing poetry
"Artwork of Minerva from Indian Mughal emperor Akbar's court, 1590 
"Those very groups of gods enter into You ; struck with fear, some extol (You) with joined palms.
Groups of great sages and perfected beings praise You with elaborate hymns, saying 'May it be!’
O you, who in some pretty boat,
Eager to listen, have been following Behind my ship, that singing sails along
Turn back to look again upon your own shores;
Tempt not the deep, lest unawares,
In losing me, you yourselves might be lost.
The sea I sail has never yet been passed;
Minerva breathes, and pilots me Apollo, And Muses nine point out to me the Bears.
You other few who have neck uplifted Betimes to the bread of angels upon Which one lives and does not grow sated,
Well may you launch your vessel Upon the deep sea."
"Minerva | Dante Alighieri