Perhaps it is the mind separating things into this and that. Perhaps it is the mind with it’s preferences

Driving through the small towns of America, children of all colors playing in the streets, some with tattered clothes

Inspiration is in the falling of rain, the soft coo of birds in late afternoon, the sinking of the

Autumn wind Brings scattered leaves, Splattered, With red and gold. Autumn wind

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

Harsh reality smacks like a slap of cold wind. Sometimes I’m a tough sailor, at the helm,

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

Itchy eyes scaly feet achy joints and bad teeth hair so fine

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

To open and risk hurt... Or stay closed but Never really live. Pain can reveal... A connection to

When I sit And watch The in and out Of breath, Thoughts no longer

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

My heart is a good heart, It beats strongly And works hard, To keep me alive. My mind is a good mind,

Red cardinal dancing On white snow, How regal you appear With your cloak of red, How it cheers my heart