Ready for this pandemic to be over, but who isn't! 7/2020
White heron skidding the blue, grey water, of the bay. How free and easy you make it look,
The chimes outside the pottery studio ring like a temple bell, calling the faithful to honor,
Just a small part of me wants strife to go away, to return to a kinder time. Am I just losing courage? Life is draining me,
Not sure where we are headed, Could be a long ride, Keep your heart steady, Open wide your eyes. There is something to learn
Red sun in the morning rolling up the side of earth. The sky turned pink, as a ball of fire showed it’s strength,
Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy
In the bright moments My mind is a flame, Melting obstacles, Gaining gifts of wisdom. In the dark moments
Red bird perched on a tree limb laced with snow. So happy to see him and the joy he brings.
The white snow lay gently on the ground in a swirl pattern. The sky, a slab of smooth grey stone.
This is the America I know: A sea of white, black, red, yellow And brown faces, Strong minds and voices Raised to the sun,
The red cardinal high in a tree, caught my attention with his melodious chirp on my daily walk.
Pink hues from the west Filter through Snow covered boughs Leaving, The evening light
It’s that time of year again. The sound of honking geese fills the air, as they pass in alignment, to the Deep South.
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
At that magical time When the yellow moon Sets, And the pink mist Of dawn,