Again

Once again, the winter's grip begins to sway,
A familiar tune, it's Groundhog Day.
The furry prognosticator, in shadows he'll play,
A whisper of spring, or winter's prolonged stay?

Again, the calendar turns its page,
A special date, a yearly stage.
It's not just Groundhog Day, you see,
It's a celebration, it's my birthday.

The groundhog emerges, a sleepy gaze,
Again he predicts in mysterious ways,
Will winter linger or swiftly depart?
A whimsical ritual, a weatherman's art.

Again, the cake adorned with candles so bright,
A reflection on the passing of time's swift flight.
As Punxsutawney Phil repeats his decree,
I mark another year, it's all about me.

The groundhog may repeat his forecast in jest,
But birthdays remind us, time is a guest.
Again, I find joy in the moments that sway,
As Groundhog Day meets my birthday.

So here's to the customs, whimsical and free,
To shadows and candles, on this day of glee.
Again, I embrace the cycle's sweet spin,
As Groundhog Day and birthdays joyfully begin.