A poem for fun! 9/20/20
Perhaps it is the mind separating things into this and that. Perhaps it is the mind with it’s preferences
Not a word heard As the river flows Over rock, around Banks that lie Waiting for visitors.
My spirit communes with the four directions: To the north are in-laws, our aging mother, her last
Easing down the gravel road, yellow leaves spiral across, like a welcome
It’s a billion stars moving and co… While we sleep. It’s one miracle after another and… We do not take the leap. It’s the great heave of nature
The white snow, thin Like sand, over The fields, blowing Across the road. My car rambles
In the noble purpose of my life, In the clear and quiet chamber Of my soul, In the open and warm cave Of my heart,
The flesh withers as we age But our inner spirit Remains the same. And when the body dies The spirit breaks free
Mr. R. would talk about his deceased brother, he dreamed about him frequently; also of an eagle
Blue star behind tree branch. White cloud passing half moon. Black space surrounds like a
Red bird perched on a tree limb laced with snow. So happy to see him and the joy he brings.
As I enter my sixty-third year, Fall leaves grace the path I love, With hues of red, Gold and orange.
Standing at a crossroad Between this life And the next, Heart in hand I knock on that
Brown hawk with spotted tail, soaring on the wind, balancing like a sail. Your piercing cry
Her smile was like gold, Her lines were often bold, Her stories of wisdom told, In books that are now sold. She has left the earth,