For Bede
(2014)
What is truth? It’s a changing sky, One day clear, The next, cloudy, Holding the blue and grey,
Brown hawk with spotted tail, soaring on the wind, balancing like a sail. Your piercing cry
My spirit communes with the four directions: To the north are in-laws, our aging mother, her last
Last night I dreamt that I floated above the clouds, above the earth and my heart
Misty fog floating through bare trees. Cold waves of wind coarse through the woods whistling as they go
There is my shadow, A dark outline of this body And yet, it also holds, The hidden imperfections Of my existence.
Red bird perched on a tree limb laced with snow. So happy to see him and the joy he brings.
Blue star behind tree branch. White cloud passing half moon. Black space surrounds like a
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
Twilight slides in quietly as birds fly to warm nests. Pink hues of evening reflect in the clouds. Soon the moon
Every hour we are someone Different, Every day something new Learned, Death is just another
I lay still While my loved one, Sleeps. His warm hand In my hand,
Standing at a crossroad Between this life And the next, Heart in hand I knock on that
The buck in the garden Chewing up hard earned Labor, His antlers raise, His ears perk up, as
Photos are all I have At times, Of smiling familiar faces, My family spread out. I would travel often