(2014)
After hearing a favorite song and remembering a difficult time, a poem came out
It is what it is Despite my wishes for it, Otherwise. You are who you are Despite my expectations,
I lay still While my loved one, Sleeps. His warm hand In my hand,
Squirrels with bushy orange tails leap about the deck. Crickets hum, confused that it’s not dark yet. The caw of a blue jay
Half a world away, I walk a narrow, stone path. In the rice fields, the Balinese people
Every hour we are someone Different, Every day something new Learned, Death is just another
Great scientific minds Working for cures Of terminal diseases, The clock ticks... What is the cure
My spirit communes with the four directions: To the north are in-laws, our aging mother, her last
Red bird perched on a tree limb laced with snow. So happy to see him and the joy he brings.
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,
A path with heart Is full of love Which makes us right Brings in the light And chases the dark.
Easing down the gravel road, yellow leaves spiral across, like a welcome
Tonight, the wind whistles as it rushes through the atmospher… Winter’s bare limbs of swaying trees, dance in the shadows.
Not a word heard As the river flows Over rock, around Banks that lie Waiting for visitors.
Pretend there is no tomorrow becau… there might not be. Live like there is only this momen… that is the truth. Nothing is solid but whispery,
Brown hawk with spotted tail, soaring on the wind, balancing like a sail. Your piercing cry