My spirit communes with the four directions: To the north are in-laws, our aging mother, her last

As we shared stories, The warm hum of voices heard, A cup of love spilled.

Inhale, the arms float up, Exhale, the arms float down, Namaste, at the heart. Inhale, the body bends, Hands at top of mat,

Life is not fair at times... But of course things Change quickly down the line, We are born into a No guarantee world.

The white snow, thin Like sand, over The fields, blowing Across the road. My car rambles

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

At that magical time When the yellow moon Sets, And the pink mist Of dawn,

Summertime gives A chance to grow Under the sun, Travel, to new places And have some fun.

I lay still While my loved one, Sleeps. His warm hand In my hand,

Driving down the road, The song, “Let It Be” Came on the radio. Taking me back to Various scenarios.

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

Walking down the dirt path, Sounds drift on the air, Birds chirping, leaves Rustling, dogs barking. Interconnection of life

When I grow really old I may have to do yoga Full time, to get out The aches and creaks. When I grow really old

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 birds flock to the bird feeder, some with black, capped heads and others with