Just a fun little poem on aging 10-2016
This evening the blank, white page is open. My nerves are on edge, while a storm forms on the horizon.
Summer is near it’s end, I regret not visiting my childhood home, near the gulf, where the sunset
My heart is a good heart, It beats strongly And works hard, To keep me alive. My mind is a good mind,
Not sure where we are headed, Could be a long ride, Keep your heart steady, Open wide your eyes. There is something to learn
Dark bulk of a single bird, With red puffed up chest, As winter’s breeze sways his perch…
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,
An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos
The chimes outside the pottery studio ring like a temple bell, calling the faithful to honor,
Misty fog floating through bare trees. Cold waves of wind coarse through the woods whistling as they go
When I sit And watch The in and out Of breath, Thoughts no longer
Every hour we are someone Different, Every day something new Learned, Death is just another
Half a world away, I walk a narrow, stone path. In the rice fields, the Balinese people
Not a word heard As the river flows Over rock, around Banks that lie Waiting for visitors.
Birds flying here and there, landing on branches to chirp and bare, their heart. A private club among the trees with their own private code.
The flesh withers as we age But our inner spirit Remains the same. And when the body dies The spirit breaks free