(2014)
An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos
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,
Half a world away, I walk a narrow, stone path. In the rice fields, the Balinese people
On a walk, many Brown-Eye Susan line the border, before the woods. Rain clouds move closer as if to give a hug, while
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
On this New Year’s Eve Direction lost Drifting like blowing snow To and fro. A freeze comes
To open and risk hurt... Or stay closed but Never really live. Pain can reveal... A connection to
Walking down the dirt path, Sounds drift on the air, Birds chirping, leaves Rustling, dogs barking. Interconnection of life
Itchy eyes scaly feet achy joints and bad teeth hair so fine
When you are not here An empty heart full of fear Arises and wonders If I will see you again. What will I do without
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…
It’s that time of year again. The sound of honking geese fills the air, as they pass in alignment, to the Deep South.
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 grow really old I may have to do yoga Full time, to get out The aches and creaks. When I grow really old
White heron skidding the blue, grey water, of the bay. How free and easy you make it look,