Birds flying here and there, landing on branches to chirp and bare, their heart. A private club among the trees with their own private code.

When I first heard “The Blackbird,” In the middle Of night, I was just thirteen.

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

Oh billionaires! How you have lost your soul, lost the goal and kneel down

Twilight slides in quietly as birds fly to warm nests. Pink hues of evening reflect in the clouds. Soon the moon

At that magical time When the yellow moon Sets, And the pink mist Of dawn,

Misty fog floating through bare trees. Cold waves of wind coarse through the woods whistling as they go

Geese are honking As they fly Across an orange colored Sky. My spirit soars

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

When I sit And watch The in and out Of breath, Thoughts no longer

On a walk, many Brown-Eye Susan line the border, before the woods. Rain clouds move closer as if to give a hug, while

It’s that time of year again. The sound of honking geese fills the air, as they pass in alignment, to the Deep South.

Walking on the edge, Between awareness and sleep. Sometimes... I’m in the moment, I feel my body,

Many thoughts in the mind, Some productive, some not. They glow like fires, Created by needs and

One year since I traveled to paradise. One year since I laughed and danced with friends. One year since I watched