4-1-2017
The white snow lay gently on the ground in a swirl pattern. The sky, a slab of smooth grey stone.
Sitting on the lake shore, Which made my heart soar, The water rippled at times, Swirled into beautiful lines, Clouds reflected in it’s mirror,
The chimes outside the pottery studio ring like a temple bell, calling the faithful to honor,
Mr. R. would talk about his deceased brother, he dreamed about him frequently; also of an eagle
Photos are all I have At times, Of smiling familiar faces, My family spread out. I would travel often
This evening the blank, white page is open. My nerves are on edge, while a storm forms on the horizon.
Easing down the gravel road, yellow leaves spiral across, like a welcome
Red and gold leaves Falling, Sing to me Of the season of change, Before the snow,
Every hour we are someone Different, Every day something new Learned, Death is just another
In the blink of an eye It’s a different scene On the big movie screen So easy to get absorbed In the story line of time.
Rolling painted deserts of the west. Shrub bushes dot sloping hillsides. Relentless sun heats up
Oh hummingbird Where are you now? Have you taken My courage with you? Oh hummingbird
Today, I wish the pain to go, the fatigue that I fight so. This process of aging is unkind and yet, the law of nature is a fast lane of change.
Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy
Red cardinal dancing On white snow, How regal you appear With your cloak of red, How it cheers my heart