(A Birthday Sonnet)
One hundred forty-first day of the year;
Unaware the world in its randomness,
Born a soul to my heart would be dear
For all her genuine light and genius.
Though years ahead is she of my becoming,
What fortune have I received to find her!
You whose presence wonder and happiness brings
To me and all whose love for you I share.
May this revolution bring your desires,
And in this lifetime your dreams in waking.
May you come out a gem in life’s fires;
Your beloved stay in your safekeeping.
‘Tis a day to celebrate of all days
For the world has been made a better place.