Ambition seems overrated at this time of life, effort seems more like strife. In my youth I was motivated by a hungry desire

Silver sliver of the moon With the bright star of Venus Trailing behind. Moonbeams casting light On the waves,

As we shared stories, The warm hum of voices heard, A cup of love spilled.

The flesh withers as we age But our inner spirit Remains the same. And when the body dies The spirit breaks free

Twilight slides in quietly as birds fly to warm nests. Pink hues of evening reflect in the clouds. Soon the moon

Red and gold leaves Falling, Sing to me Of the season of change, Before the snow,

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

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

Looking at my journal’s Blank page While geese fly by and honk A greeting. The red cardinals

Time passing by now In a blink of the eye, In the clap of a hand, In the chirp of a bird, In a flash of light

As I enter my sixty-third year, Fall leaves grace the path I love, With hues of red, Gold and orange.

Brown hawk with spotted tail, soaring on the wind, balancing like a sail. Your piercing cry

Sometimes wonder about a star, way afar. How life might be in outer space,

Life is but a dream, our fantasies, spill, like liquid tears that pool and vaporize into the air.

Leaves falling, Another season Decorating the earth. One red leaf In my path,