As I round another lap of the sun
what I want at 71 is what I had
watching our children grow:
the wonder of seeing
who, by grace, I am becoming.

Oh, I try, of course, and apply myself;
I have aims and hopes and intentions;
but this miraculous unfolding is gift, pure gift.
The earth produces of itself, I know not how:
first the blade, then the stalk,
then the full head of grain.

My wish as I blow out a forest of candles
is that I might attend to what is emerging,
nurture it with care,
humbly live in harmony with it,
and gather the harvest in joy—
to let myself be my own best birthday present,
day after blessed birthing day.

Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
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