(2013)
#Autumn
On a walk, many Brown-Eye Susan line the border, before the woods. Rain clouds move closer as if to give a hug, while
When I grow really old I may have to do yoga Full time, to get out The aches and creaks. When I grow really old
When I sit And watch The in and out Of breath, Thoughts no longer
The white snow, thin Like sand, over The fields, blowing Across the road. My car rambles
Looking at my journal’s Blank page While geese fly by and honk A greeting. The red cardinals
Yellow finches Line the bird feeder Against Spring’ s canopy Of green and purple tapestry. Back and forth they go
Thoughts flicker like twinkling lights, ride them across the sky. Embrace your dream,
It is what it is Despite my wishes for it, Otherwise. You are who you are Despite my expectations,
To open and risk hurt... Or stay closed but Never really live. Pain can reveal... A connection to
This evening the blank, white page is open. My nerves are on edge, while a storm forms on the horizon.
If I had all the time In the world To write, What would I say? What would be the most
Many thoughts in the mind, Some productive, some not. They glow like fires, Created by needs and
Perhaps it is the mind separating things into this and that. Perhaps it is the mind with it’s preferences
Last night I dreamt that I floated above the clouds, above the earth and my heart
Red, yellow and orange leaves Fall quickly now And create a tapestry of color That fill my mind With joy.