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

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

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

In the noble purpose of my life, In the clear and quiet chamber Of my soul, In the open and warm cave Of my heart,

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

Unable to be all things For all people, Perhaps at one time, I tried. Those days are

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

You may not know what you’ll do next: Hit the open road With your thumb stuck out. Give up all you own

Driving down the road, The song, “Let It Be” Came on the radio. Taking me back to Various scenarios.

Red and gold leaves Falling, Sing to me Of the season of change, Before the snow,

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

Inhale, the arms float up, Exhale, the arms float down, Namaste, at the heart. Inhale, the body bends, Hands at top of mat,

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

Not sure where we are headed, Could be a long ride, Keep your heart steady, Open wide your eyes. There is something to learn

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