(2014)
After a ride through the desert which is haunting and beautiful at the same time.
If we could embrace our sorrow and surf on our tears, surely our hearts would grow wider to hold the years
As I enter my sixty-third year, Fall leaves grace the path I love, With hues of red, Gold and orange.
This evening the blank, white page is open. My nerves are on edge, while a storm forms on the horizon.
What is truth? It’s a changing sky, One day clear, The next, cloudy, Holding the blue and grey,
My heart is a good heart, It beats strongly And works hard, To keep me alive. My mind is a good mind,
It’s that time of year again. The sound of honking geese fills the air, as they pass in alignment, to the Deep South.
Geese are honking As they fly Across an orange colored Sky. My spirit soars
I lay still While my loved one, Sleeps. His warm hand In my hand,
Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy
The chimes outside the pottery studio ring like a temple bell, calling the faithful to honor,
Red and gold leaves Falling, Sing to me Of the season of change, Before the snow,
Blue star behind tree branch. White cloud passing half moon. Black space surrounds like a
Life is a day dream So they say, With every beat Of my heart, The gate to love
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
Pink hues from the west Filter through Snow covered boughs Leaving, The evening light