Red sun in the morning rolling up the side of earth. The sky turned pink, as a ball of fire showed it’s strength,

Life is a day dream So they say, With every beat Of my heart, The gate to love

Cold spring rain chills my body And yet, the birds fly in unison As if, it is a sunny day. The white tail deer Bounce through the ravine

This is the America I know: A sea of white, black, red, yellow And brown faces, Strong minds and voices Raised to the sun,

Pale blue moon Of August, Peeking behind The clouds, Luminous,

Walking on the edge, Between awareness and sleep. Sometimes... I’m in the moment, I feel my body,

Today, I wish the pain to go, the fatigue that I fight so. This process of aging is unkind and yet, the law of nature is a fast lane of change.

Twilight slides in quietly as birds fly to warm nests. Pink hues of evening reflect in the clouds. Soon the moon

If I had all the time In the world To write, What would I say? What would be the most

One lit candle burns brightly As I make a wish upon it’s Golden aura, that Humankind May learn to caress the earth As the wind does a field of flower…

There is my shadow, A dark outline of this body And yet, it also holds, The hidden imperfections Of my existence.

Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy

The chimes outside the pottery studio ring like a temple bell, calling the faithful to honor,

Grateful for: Sunrise of pink and gold Showing the way, Lighting the sky, To another blessed day.

Inspiration is in the falling of rain, the soft coo of birds in late afternoon, the sinking of the