4-1-2017
It’s that time of year again. The sound of honking geese fills the air, as they pass in alignment, to the Deep South.
Rolling painted deserts of the west. Shrub bushes dot sloping hillsides. Relentless sun heats up
When I first heard “The Blackbird,” In the middle Of night, I was just thirteen.
What inspires me... Hummingbirds buzzing as they land, on nearby flowers. Their amazing wings
Half a world away, I walk a narrow, stone path. In the rice fields, the Balinese people
Yellow finches Line the bird feeder Against Spring’ s canopy Of green and purple tapestry. Back and forth they go
The chimes outside the pottery studio ring like a temple bell, calling the faithful to honor,
As we shared stories, The warm hum of voices heard, A cup of love spilled.
Great scientific minds Working for cures Of terminal diseases, The clock ticks... What is the cure
It is what it is Despite my wishes for it, Otherwise. You are who you are Despite my expectations,
Walking on the beach of long ago, the constant roll of the gulf, it’s sound, like a lullaby.
Last night I dreamt that I floated above the clouds, above the earth and my heart
Looking at my journal’s Blank page While geese fly by and honk A greeting. The red cardinals
Cold spring rain chills my body And yet, the birds fly in unison As if, it is a sunny day. The white tail deer Bounce through the ravine
Time is going by fast, Trying not to live in the past, To keep priorities straight And not falter at the gate. To join the universal goal