I wonder if you know a birthday’s not
only a time for parties or dread, caught
on the wheel of loss, hoping for light a little
longer, wishing for mind’s escape from the brittle
fate of the body’s decline. No. No!
Deepest heart of the Real, beyond the song
of one verse, of uni verse, long
before this life began, or life at all,
pulsed itself in teeming beats to fall
on earth with every seeming chance. So,
each beat begins a life, a greater throb
a nation—soul of all of us in ob-
servation of this day that calls to source,
the Real, our destiny's unveiling course
over the easy, on to the true . . . go!