Happy Birthday, Daniel

On your birthday last year
I was coming up the coastline, coasting, I guess
Stopping to watch windsurfers until the mist and rain
Pushed me away

I thought I was coming to you in a white rolling cloud
And that I'd be there singing your praises

Instead I was in the world, as you have taught me to be
In one moment seeing the world with a peaceful heart
Holding quite tenderly any sensation of irony
Even on your birthday
When I thought about it, how I knew you
I realized that I never really made contact with you
Until the day when you said

This is my scar, under foot.
This is my hidden pain.
This is why I seem preoccupied.

I never made it to your party that day
Somehow it seems appropriate
That I should gift you now, months later
With this unfinished poem