Not a word heard As the river flows Over rock, around Banks that lie Waiting for visitors.

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

The wind went through me, it carried the yellow, orange and red leaves lightly on the air. Another change is coming,

When you are not here An empty heart full of fear Arises and wonders If I will see you again. What will I do without

White heron skidding the blue, grey water, of the bay. How free and easy you make it look,

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

Geese are honking As they fly Across an orange colored Sky. My spirit soars

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

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

An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos

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

Pink hues from the west Filter through Snow covered boughs Leaving, The evening light

In the bright moments My mind is a flame, Melting obstacles, Gaining gifts of wisdom. In the dark moments

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