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

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

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

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

The misty, night rain, Soaking bare trees, Bringing nourishment. I stand at the window, A steady beat echoes

The birds flock to the bird feeder, some with black, capped heads and others with

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

Great scientific minds Working for cures Of terminal diseases, The clock ticks... What is the cure

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

Soft gray clouds pass slowly by, Soon they will release a gift of r… Trees are shedding their leaves As they turn red, orange and yello… Signaling the squirrels to collect…

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

When I first heard “The Blackbird,” In the middle Of night, I was just thirteen.

It is what it is Despite my wishes for it, Otherwise. You are who you are Despite my expectations,

Embrace that which comes with ease: The twinkling of an eye, The drumbeat of a heart, The blooming of a flower,