(2014)
The lines in my hand, Were read once, By a gypsy, who Predicated a long life... But with many interruptions.
Lately, a sadness pervades, I mourn for youth, perhaps passion of younger days. With age, some of that passion
Pretend there is no tomorrow becau… there might not be. Live like there is only this momen… that is the truth. Nothing is solid but whispery,
Walking on the edge, Between awareness and sleep. Sometimes... I’m in the moment, I feel my body,
This is the America I know: A sea of white, black, red, yellow And brown faces, Strong minds and voices Raised to the sun,
In the dead Of Winter, I long for Spring. In the rains Of Spring,
Red and gold leaves Falling, Sing to me Of the season of change, Before the snow,
Cool breeze rustles through the tr… drifting into my open door and leads me to the window to see leaves falling with abandon. Highlights of red and gold lace
This evening the blank, white page is open. My nerves are on edge, while a storm forms on the horizon.
Red, yellow and orange leaves Fall quickly now And create a tapestry of color That fill my mind With joy.
In the bright moments My mind is a flame, Melting obstacles, Gaining gifts of wisdom. In the dark moments
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.
Not sure what to write while the world is on the brink of another war. While others face
The chimes outside the pottery studio ring like a temple bell, calling the faithful to honor,