(2014)
This evening the blank, white page is open. My nerves are on edge, while a storm forms on the horizon.
Rolling painted deserts of the west. Shrub bushes dot sloping hillsides. Relentless sun heats up
The birds flock to the bird feeder, some with black, capped heads and others with
Life is but a dream, our fantasies, spill, like liquid tears that pool and vaporize into the air.
Not sure where we are headed, Could be a long ride, Keep your heart steady, Open wide your eyes. There is something to learn
An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos
What inspires me... Hummingbirds buzzing as they land, on nearby flowers. Their amazing wings
The many places I have been And countless faces I have seen, The many tales to be told, Into the universe, they unfold. It’s all a passing show,
As we shared stories, The warm hum of voices heard, A cup of love spilled.
Pretend there is no tomorrow becau… there might not be. Live like there is only this momen… that is the truth. Nothing is solid but whispery,
Brown hawk with spotted tail, soaring on the wind, balancing like a sail. Your piercing cry
Unable to be all things For all people, Perhaps at one time, I tried. Those days are
Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy
Walking on the beach of long ago, the constant roll of the gulf, it’s sound, like a lullaby.
Lately, a sadness pervades, I mourn for youth, perhaps passion of younger days. With age, some of that passion