The white snow, thin Like sand, over The fields, blowing Across the road. My car rambles

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

Squirrels with bushy orange tails leap about the deck. Crickets hum, confused that it’s not dark yet. The caw of a blue jay

The buck in the garden Chewing up hard earned Labor, His antlers raise, His ears perk up, as

Pink hues from the west Filter through Snow covered boughs Leaving, The evening light

What if, The simple things In life, were the Most important Events.

Red, yellow and orange leaves Fall quickly now And create a tapestry of color That fill my mind With joy.

Half a world away, I walk a narrow, stone path. In the rice fields, the Balinese people

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

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

I do believe, to give to others lends meaning to our lives. To be there

The many places I have been And countless faces I have seen, The many tales to be told, Into the universe, they unfold. It’s all a passing show,

In the bright moments My mind is a flame, Melting obstacles, Gaining gifts of wisdom. In the dark moments

It is what it is Despite my wishes for it, Otherwise. You are who you are Despite my expectations,

Great scientific minds Working for cures Of terminal diseases, The clock ticks... What is the cure