I don’t measure my days
In hours I work
In songs that I stream
In tweets or likes or characters
Or words I’ve put to paper
I measure my days
By the gardening dirt
Washed off in the shower
And the bugs I catch
With my kids at dusk
For science lessons at bedtime
And how sore my muscles are
The morning after
I measure my days
In the flowers I’ve met
And sandcastle refuges built
And Lego towers
I measure the day in love
With smiles of hope and joy
And the number of dresses
My daughter twirls, singing
Between tickle-monster giggles

I don’t measure the steps I take
Or the miles I drives
I measure my warmth and stillness
In much-requested snuggles
Sheltering a child from morning
On peaceful weekends

I don’t measure my weeks
In billable time
Or proscriptive pages
And decisions made
I share and give and hope
Alongside dreamers
Who need to see their spark
I don’t worry about
Being taken seriously
Or the advice that I’ve provided
Ignored or followed as I try to help
No, I measure my weeks
In twinkling eyes
As I walk in the door each evening
In bonfires lit for marshmallows
And Summer’s splashing water
I measure my weeks in hiking trips
And Autumn leaves we crunch
In snowball fights and lightning bugs
Spring showers danced in
Early summer sunburns
And ice cream headache kisses
I measure my weeks in smiles
In water sloshed out the tub
In sand tracked onto hardwood
And the drowsy bedtime tales
In nights I look up at my sky
And track the conversion rate
Of sunsets I find peace in

I don’t measure my years
In money I’ve made
Or parties I’ve thrown
And destinations I’ve seen
I measure my years
In the people I’ve served
By the callouses on my hands
The art hung on the fridge
And my joy in the moment