(2014)
As I age this last quarter of my life, I am fading into the background. As I let go of roles,
Some days you’re in bliss, Some days you’re in pain. Some days you’re up in the clouds, Some days you’re down in the flame… Some days you get what you want
Unable to be all things For all people, Perhaps at one time, I tried. Those days are
Many thoughts in the mind, Some productive, some not. They glow like fires, Created by needs and
Pale blue moon Of August, Peeking behind The clouds, Luminous,
The white snow lay gently on the ground in a swirl pattern. The sky, a slab of smooth grey stone.
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
What is truth? It’s a changing sky, One day clear, The next, cloudy, Holding the blue and grey,
Squirrels with bushy orange tails leap about the deck. Crickets hum, confused that it’s not dark yet. The caw of a blue jay
Geese are honking As they fly Across an orange colored Sky. My spirit soars
Walking on the edge, Between awareness and sleep. Sometimes... I’m in the moment, I feel my body,
Easing down the gravel road, yellow leaves spiral across, like a welcome
In the blink of an eye It’s a different scene On the big movie screen So easy to get absorbed In the story line of time.
Not sure what to write while the world is on the brink of another war. While others face
An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos