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

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

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

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

Dark bulk of a single bird, With red puffed up chest, As winter’s breeze sways his perch…

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

What is truth? It’s a changing sky, One day clear, The next, cloudy, Holding the blue and grey,

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.

Pale blue moon Of August, Peeking behind The clouds, Luminous,

When I grow really old I may have to do yoga Full time, to get out The aches and creaks. When I grow really old

The buck in the garden Chewing up hard earned Labor, His antlers raise, His ears perk up, as

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

Old friends walking on the beach, the waves bring in, memories, of carefree days;

The flesh withers as we age But our inner spirit Remains the same. And when the body dies The spirit breaks free

Life is but a dream, our fantasies, spill, like liquid tears that pool and vaporize into the air.