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

First snow of the season Came down light and gay, With it’s bright white, Reflecting, Off slow moving clouds

Lately, a sadness pervades, I mourn for youth, perhaps passion of younger days. With age, some of that passion

Half a world away, I walk a narrow, stone path. In the rice fields, the Balinese people

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

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

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

Inhale, the arms float up, Exhale, the arms float down, Namaste, at the heart. Inhale, the body bends, Hands at top of mat,

Remember the night we took your mother’s car and drove over the skyway bridge? The moon was a bright light to show the way.

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

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

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

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

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

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