Standing at a crossroad Between this life And the next, Heart in hand I knock on that

Many thoughts in the mind, Some productive, some not. They glow like fires, Created by needs and

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

The hummingbirds are buzzing As well as the bees. The Orioles land gingerly On top of the feeder. Cautiously they move down

Geese are honking As they fly Across an orange colored Sky. My spirit soars

When I first heard “The Blackbird,” In the middle Of night, I was just thirteen.

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

Just a small part of me wants strife to go away, to return to a kinder time. Am I just losing courage? Life is draining me,

In the dead Of Winter, I long for Spring. In the rains Of Spring,

As I age this last quarter of my life, I am fading into the background. As I let go of roles,

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

This evening the blank, white page is open. My nerves are on edge, while a storm forms on the horizon.

I lay still While my loved one, Sleeps. His warm hand In my hand,

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

Some days you’re in bliss, Some days you’re in pain. Some days you’re up in the clouds, Some days you’re down in the flame… Some days you get what you want