Tonight, the wind whistles as it rushes through the atmospher… Winter’s bare limbs of swaying trees, dance in the shadows.

Mr. R. would talk about his deceased brother, he dreamed about him frequently; also of an eagle

Perhaps it is the mind separating things into this and that. Perhaps it is the mind with it’s preferences

Every hour we are someone Different, Every day something new Learned, Death is just another

Yellow finches Line the bird feeder Against Spring’ s canopy Of green and purple tapestry. Back and forth they go

Half a world away, I walk a narrow, stone path. In the rice fields, the Balinese people

Cool breeze rustles through the tr… drifting into my open door and leads me to the window to see leaves falling with abandon. Highlights of red and gold lace

One lit candle burns brightly As I make a wish upon it’s Golden aura, that Humankind May learn to caress the earth As the wind does a field of flower…

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,

Oh hummingbird Where are you now? Have you taken My courage with you? Oh hummingbird

What is truth? It’s a changing sky, One day clear, The next, cloudy, Holding the blue and grey,

Dark bulk of a single bird, With red puffed up chest, As winter’s breeze sways his perch…

Soft gray clouds pass slowly by, Soon they will release a gift of r… Trees are shedding their leaves As they turn red, orange and yello… Signaling the squirrels to collect…

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

To open and risk hurt... Or stay closed but Never really live. Pain can reveal... A connection to