The west coast of FLA. is hot in the summer but there is always a breeze and water to cool off in or so I remember when I was a child.
To open and risk hurt... Or stay closed but Never really live. Pain can reveal... A connection to
There is my shadow, A dark outline of this body And yet, it also holds,
The chimes outside the pottery studio ring like a temple bell, calling the faithful to honor,
Pink hues from the west Filter through Snow covered boughs Leaving, The evening light
Every hour we are someone Different, Every day something new
Walking on the beach of long ago, the constant roll of the gulf, it’s sound, like a lullaby.
On a walk, many Brown-Eye Susan line the border, before the woods. Rain clouds move closer as if to give a hug, while
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…
I heard past generations In my son’s voice, I saw his life fly Into another dimension, A place, I can only imagine.
Leaves falling, Another season Decorating the earth. One red leaf In my path,
It’s that time of year again. The sound of honking geese fills the air, as they pass in alignment, to the Deep South.
Soft gray clouds pass slowly by, Soon they will release a gift of r… Trees are shedding their leaves As they turn red, orange and yello… Signaling the squirrels to collect…
Pretend there is no tomorrow becau… there might not be. Live like there is only this momen… that is the truth. Nothing is solid but whispery,
Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy
You may not know what you’ll do next: Hit the open road With your thumb stuck out. Give up all you own