4/7/20
The flesh withers as we age But our inner spirit Remains the same. And when the body dies The spirit breaks free
If I had all the time In the world To write, What would I say? What would be the most
Perhaps it is the mind separating things into this and that. Perhaps it is the mind with it’s preferences
Not a word heard As the river flows Over rock, around Banks that lie Waiting for visitors.
Last night I dreamt that I floated above the clouds, above the earth and my heart
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
Her smile was like gold, Her lines were often bold, Her stories of wisdom told, In books that are now sold. She has left the earth,
Twilight slides in quietly as birds fly to warm nests. Pink hues of evening reflect in the clouds. Soon the moon
The gift of summer Is the sound of a Creek flowing through Rocks. A blue bird perched
Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy
Life is like a dream A star studded sky A blink of an eye Oh, how life slips by. Life is like a song
Life is but a dream, our fantasies, spill, like liquid tears that pool and vaporize into the air.
Time passing by now In a blink of the eye, In the clap of a hand, In the chirp of a bird, In a flash of light
Driving down the road, The song, “Let It Be” Came on the radio. Taking me back to Various scenarios.
Harsh reality smacks like a slap of cold wind. Sometimes I’m a tough sailor, at the helm,