Easing down the gravel road, yellow leaves spiral across, like a welcome

Cold spring rain chills my body And yet, the birds fly in unison As if, it is a sunny day. The white tail deer Bounce through the ravine

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

Every hour we are someone Different, Every day something new Learned, Death is just another

What if, The simple things In life, were the Most important Events.

On a walk, many Brown-Eye Susan line the border, before the woods. Rain clouds move closer as if to give a hug, while

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

Orange full moon with a half smile, a hanging lantern, lighting the way, through dark streets,

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

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

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

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

Not sure what to write while the world is on the brink of another war. While others face

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