seventy-six seventy

so many pages have you turned
screenfuls of substance scrolled
so many candles been burned
illuminating how young and old

may each day be a story told
with many more not yet written
seventy-six seventy days old
so much has come to fruition

i wish for you on the road ahead
for grace and greatness hand in hand
that the voice of your life has said
when your days be forty thousand