4-1-19
Lately, a sadness pervades, I mourn for youth, perhaps passion of younger days. With age, some of that passion
White heron skidding the blue, grey water, of the bay. How free and easy you make it look,
Not sure where we are headed, Could be a long ride, Keep your heart steady, Open wide your eyes. There is something to learn
Harsh reality smacks like a slap of cold wind. Sometimes I’m a tough sailor, at the helm,
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,
Squirrels with bushy orange tails leap about the deck. Crickets hum, confused that it’s not dark yet. The caw of a blue jay
There is my shadow, A dark outline of this body And yet, it also holds, The hidden imperfections Of my existence.
Today, I wish the pain to go, the fatigue that I fight so. This process of aging is unkind and yet, the law of nature is a fast lane of change.
It’s that time of year again. The sound of honking geese fills the air, as they pass in alignment, to the Deep South.
Photos are all I have At times, Of smiling familiar faces, My family spread out. I would travel often
Last night I dreamt that I floated above the clouds, above the earth and my heart
Half a world away, I walk a narrow, stone path. In the rice fields, the Balinese people
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,
What is truth? It’s a changing sky, One day clear, The next, cloudy, Holding the blue and grey,