Hello Sunrise, with your red ball of fire, peeking over the horizon, leaving the clouds pink,

In the still night In the silence, My soul begs, My mind to rest. It’s story told

Mr. R. would talk about his deceased brother, he dreamed about him frequently; also of an eagle

When I sit And watch The in and out Of breath, Thoughts no longer

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.

Photos are all I have At times, Of smiling familiar faces, My family spread out. I would travel often

Pink hues from the west Filter through Snow covered boughs Leaving, The evening light

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

Red sun in the morning rolling up the side of earth. The sky turned pink, as a ball of fire showed it’s strength,

Perhaps it is the mind separating things into this and that. Perhaps it is the mind with it’s preferences

Grateful for: Sunrise of pink and gold Showing the way, Lighting the sky, To another blessed day.

Time is going by fast, Trying not to live in the past, To keep priorities straight And not falter at the gate. To join the universal goal

Harsh reality smacks like a slap of cold wind. Sometimes I’m a tough sailor, at the helm,

An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos

Standing at a crossroad Between this life And the next, Heart in hand I knock on that