Easing down the gravel road, yellow leaves spiral across, like a welcome

Every hour we are someone Different, Every day something new Learned, Death is just another

If I could go back in time I would fix my wrongs, I would sing new songs And mend all hate And open the gate

On the brink of leaving, To go beyond These borders And say good-bye, To all you know,

Her smile was like gold, Her lines were often bold, Her stories of wisdom told, In books that are now sold. She has left the earth,

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

Driving through the small towns of America, children of all colors playing in the streets, some with tattered clothes

The misty, night rain, Soaking bare trees, Bringing nourishment. I stand at the window, A steady beat echoes

The lines in my hand, Were read once, By a gypsy, who Predicated a long life... But with many interruptions.

Sometimes wonder about a star, way afar. How life might be in outer space,

Dark bulk of a single bird, With red puffed up chest, As winter’s breeze sways his perch…

Tonight, the wind whistles as it rushes through the atmospher… Winter’s bare limbs of swaying trees, dance in the shadows.

A path with heart Is full of love Which makes us right Brings in the light And chases the dark.

Walking on the beach of long ago, the constant roll of the gulf, it’s sound, like a lullaby.

What is truth? It’s a changing sky, One day clear, The next, cloudy, Holding the blue and grey,