I have been bird watching lately, they are such a gift!
Perhaps it is the mind separating things into this and that. Perhaps it is the mind with it’s preferences
Red and gold leaves Falling, Sing to me Of the season of change, Before the snow,
Time passing by now In a blink of the eye, In the clap of a hand, In the chirp of a bird, In a flash of light
Rolling painted deserts of the west. Shrub bushes dot sloping hillsides. Relentless sun heats up
In the dead Of Winter, I long for Spring. In the rains Of Spring,
Walking on the beach of long ago, the constant roll of the gulf, it’s sound, like a lullaby.
Misty fog floating through bare trees. Cold waves of wind coarse through the woods whistling as they go
Lately, a sadness pervades, I mourn for youth, perhaps passion of younger days. With age, some of that passion
Twilight slides in quietly as birds fly to warm nests. Pink hues of evening reflect in the clouds. Soon the moon
Holiday cheer and laughter, Multicolored lights blink faster, Music of love and good will, Grace the air like snowflakes. Tis the season to be compassionate…
There is my shadow, A dark outline of this body And yet, it also holds, The hidden imperfections Of my existence.
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
The gift of summer Is the sound of a Creek flowing through Rocks. A blue bird perched
The buck in the garden Chewing up hard earned Labor, His antlers raise, His ears perk up, as
Red cardinal dancing On white snow, How regal you appear With your cloak of red, How it cheers my heart