6-2017
The hummingbirds are buzzing As well as the bees. The Orioles land gingerly On top of the feeder. Cautiously they move down
On this New Year’s Eve Direction lost Drifting like blowing snow To and fro. A freeze comes
Life is not fair at times... But of course things Change quickly down the line, We are born into a No guarantee world.
Geese are honking As they fly Across an orange colored Sky. My spirit soars
Unable to be all things For all people, Perhaps at one time, I tried. Those days are
When I sit And watch The in and out Of breath, Thoughts no longer
Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy
Life is but a dream, our fantasies, spill, like liquid tears that pool and vaporize into the air.
An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos
The gift of summer Is the sound of a Creek flowing through Rocks. A blue bird perched
What is the happiest moment of the… When I make someone laugh When I am of use for the good When I show kindness When I hold a hand
Inhale, the arms float up, Exhale, the arms float down, Namaste, at the heart. Inhale, the body bends, Hands at top of mat,
Lately, a sadness pervades, I mourn for youth, perhaps passion of younger days. With age, some of that passion
Looking at my journal’s Blank page While geese fly by and honk A greeting. The red cardinals
Perhaps it is the mind separating things into this and that. Perhaps it is the mind with it’s preferences