Hidden In The Turn

I am on the brink of
Something momentous
Although I know it not,
Cannot see its form.

My stomach presages it:
Knot of tension
Contracted and ready to

And my mind rises to
Meet it, fluttering
In light, excited
Trembling at the wealth

Of the given thing
Rising in its shrouded form -
Though I know it not -
Still wrapped 

And unrevealed -
Strange birthday present
For this year
Concealed around the

Corner, but near ...
near ... nearing ...
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