11-2016.
Remember the night we took your mother’s car and drove over the skyway bridge? The moon was a bright light to show the way.
Grateful for: Sunrise of pink and gold Showing the way, Lighting the sky, To another blessed day.
The gift of summer Is the sound of a Creek flowing through Rocks. A blue bird perched
This is the America I know: A sea of white, black, red, yellow And brown faces, Strong minds and voices Raised to the sun,
Ambition seems overrated at this time of life, effort seems more like strife. In my youth I was motivated by a hungry desire
Lately, a sadness pervades, I mourn for youth, perhaps passion of younger days. With age, some of that passion
Many thoughts in the mind, Some productive, some not. They glow like fires, Created by needs and
An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos
The misty, night rain, Soaking bare trees, Bringing nourishment. I stand at the window, A steady beat echoes
The flesh withers as we age But our inner spirit Remains the same. And when the body dies The spirit breaks free
As we shared stories, The warm hum of voices heard, A cup of love spilled.
Just a small part of me wants strife to go away, to return to a kinder time. Am I just losing courage? Life is draining me,
Twilight slides in quietly as birds fly to warm nests. Pink hues of evening reflect in the clouds. Soon the moon
The chimes outside the pottery studio ring like a temple bell, calling the faithful to honor,
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