(2013)
Travel on a winter day which can be dangerous but so beautiful at the same time.
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
One year since I traveled to paradise. One year since I laughed and danced with friends. One year since I watched
Unable to be all things For all people, Perhaps at one time, I tried. Those days are
As we shared stories, The warm hum of voices heard, A cup of love spilled.
I heard past generations In my son’s voice, I saw his life fly Into another dimension, A place, I can only imagine.
Geese are honking As they fly Across an orange colored Sky. My spirit soars
Last night I dreamt that I floated above the clouds, above the earth and my heart
There is my shadow, A dark outline of this body And yet, it also holds, The hidden imperfections Of my existence.
Half a world away, I walk a narrow, stone path. In the rice fields, the Balinese people
Thoughts flicker like twinkling lights, ride them across the sky. Embrace your dream,
The red cardinal high in a tree, caught my attention with his melodious chirp on my daily walk.
Pink hues from the west Filter through Snow covered boughs Leaving, The evening light
White heron skidding the blue, grey water, of the bay. How free and easy you make it look,
The chimes outside the pottery studio ring like a temple bell, calling the faithful to honor,
Driving through the small towns of America, children of all colors playing in the streets, some with tattered clothes