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

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

My spirit communes with the four directions: To the north are in-laws, our aging mother, her last

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

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

At that magical time When the yellow moon Sets, And the pink mist Of dawn,

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

Memories of my childhood Visit more and more Each day, As ghosts of past relatives Cast their shadows,

Not sure what to write while the world is on the brink of another war. While others face

The lines in my hand, Were read once, By a gypsy, who Predicated a long life... But with many interruptions.

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

Remember goodness in the fire of e… Remember joy in the center of sorr… Remember love in the flood of hate… Remember courage in the pit of fea… It’s never too late.

If I had all the time In the world To write, What would I say? What would be the most

Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy

The red cardinal high in a tree, caught my attention with his melodious chirp on my daily walk.