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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This evening the blank, white page is open. My nerves are on edge, while a storm forms on the horizon.

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

Sitting on the lake shore, Which made my heart soar, The water rippled at times, Swirled into beautiful lines, Clouds reflected in it’s mirror,

Firefly shine your light, Brighten my life, Lead the way, through The meadows, in my mind. Firefly, float so high,

Her smile was like gold, Her lines were often bold, Her stories of wisdom told, In books that are now sold. She has left the earth,

The hummingbirds are buzzing As well as the bees. The Orioles land gingerly On top of the feeder. Cautiously they move down