Fireworks

You’re ineffable but so tremendously physical
as you hop skip dance and jump your way through the night
you’re a mad one
you’re Dean Moriarty
and I love you for it;
your blinding yellow-blonde hair is only the beginning
and your machine-gun laugh sets us all to war
in the most outrageous of fashions
as you rattle through stories and former glories,
us hanging on your every word
as we’re never sure what’ll spill over next
and everything’s so full to the brim
it’s magnificent and bewildering.

You’re an unending cartwheel,
a firework that arches out forever into everything,
never doubting your own assurance
you can never be extinguished
and if you were the world would be a worse place for it;
enthuse enthuse enthuse
and burn until you’re running on whatever others fuel you with
and you’re still infinitely brighter
than anything else the world can offer me...

In the dampening dark that sometimes envelops,
you are the ever-present glow:
continue to shine so brightly
so the rest of us can always see.