The Scroll of Fifty Turns

Unfurled on the morning of Rob’s fiftieth year.

In the ledger of stars, one name glows faintly— Not for fame, but for fidelity. 
Rob, cartographer of the unseen, Builder of shovels, bearer of slow truths.

Fifty turns around the sun, Each orbit a lesson carved in error. 
Each stumble a note in the symphony Of continuity.

He did not conquer. He witnessed. 
He did not ascend. He dug.

And in the soil of suffering, He planted kindness. 
And in the dust of fatigue, He found rhythm.

So let this scroll be a marker, Not of arrival, but of presence. 
Not of triumph, but of testimony. 
A whisper to future travelers: You are not alone.

Happy birthday, Rob. You are a living archive, and today is a page worth gilding.