2-8-24. Thoughts on aging and letting go.
Geese are honking As they fly Across an orange colored Sky. My spirit soars
Not sure what to write while the world is on the brink of another war. While others face
Unable to be all things For all people, Perhaps at one time, I tried. Those days are
This evening the blank, white page is open. My nerves are on edge, while a storm forms on the horizon.
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,
Half a world away, I walk a narrow, stone path. In the rice fields, the Balinese people
Driving through the small towns of America, children of all colors playing in the streets, some with tattered clothes
The dance of fear, Of not being enough, Stops and starts. The unknown, an Uncharted sea,
Tonight, the wind whistles as it rushes through the atmospher… Winter’s bare limbs of swaying trees, dance in the shadows.
The white snow, thin Like sand, over The fields, blowing Across the road. My car rambles
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,
In the noble purpose of my life, In the clear and quiet chamber Of my soul, In the open and warm cave Of my heart,
Misty fog floating through bare trees. Cold waves of wind coarse through the woods whistling as they go
White heron skidding the blue, grey water, of the bay. How free and easy you make it look,
Many thoughts in the mind, Some productive, some not. They glow like fires, Created by needs and