Harsh reality smacks like a slap of cold wind. Sometimes I’m a tough sailor, at the helm,

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

My heart is a good heart, It beats strongly And works hard, To keep me alive. My mind is a good mind,

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

When I sit And watch The in and out Of breath, Thoughts no longer

On the brink of leaving, To go beyond These borders And say good-bye, To all you know,

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

The chimes outside the pottery studio ring like a temple bell, calling the faithful to honor,

Many thoughts in the mind, Some productive, some not. They glow like fires, Created by needs and

Red cardinal dancing On white snow, How regal you appear With your cloak of red, How it cheers my heart

I remember your smile, your laugh,… you gave so freely. It’s hard that you are gone. I sigh and walk along the bay.

If I could go back in time I would fix my wrongs, I would sing new songs And mend all hate And open the gate

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 many places I have been And countless faces I have seen, The many tales to be told, Into the universe, they unfold. It’s all a passing show,

Itchy eyes scaly feet achy joints and bad teeth hair so fine