On my 59th Birthday

I am the joy, the leaping hart
heart of my home, praise of my own passion
Here, Here, Here
I stretch like my cat on my own hearth
I reach like my flowers into the sunlight, swaying
I sing softly as the nesting birds in my planted trees
there, and there, and there,
My breath is the high clear wind.
My limbs are the foundations of mountains.
Let me lay me down in joy.