The wind went through me, it carried the yellow, orange and red leaves lightly on the air. Another change is coming,

When I first heard “The Blackbird,” In the middle Of night, I was just thirteen.

Inspiration is in the falling of rain, the soft coo of birds in late afternoon, the sinking of the

Not sure where we are headed, Could be a long ride, Keep your heart steady, Open wide your eyes. There is something to learn

Walking down the dirt path, Sounds drift on the air, Birds chirping, leaves Rustling, dogs barking. Interconnection of life

I lay still While my loved one, Sleeps. His warm hand In my hand,

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.

The birds flock to the bird feeder, some with black, capped heads and others with

Tonight, the wind whistles as it rushes through the atmospher… Winter’s bare limbs of swaying trees, dance in the shadows.

White heron skidding the blue, grey water, of the bay. How free and easy you make it look,

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

Unable to be all things For all people, Perhaps at one time, I tried. Those days are

The buck in the garden Chewing up hard earned Labor, His antlers raise, His ears perk up, as

Walking on the beach of long ago, the constant roll of the gulf, it’s sound, like a lullaby.

What is truth? It’s a changing sky, One day clear, The next, cloudy, Holding the blue and grey,