Come with me To the mountain top, Where the crest touches The sky And the air so pure,

Driving through the small towns of America, children of all colors playing in the streets, some with tattered clothes

Squirrels with bushy orange tails leap about the deck. Crickets hum, confused that it’s not dark yet. The caw of a blue jay

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

Perhaps it is the mind separating things into this and that. Perhaps it is the mind with it’s preferences

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

Red, yellow and orange leaves Fall quickly now And create a tapestry of color That fill my mind With joy.

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

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

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

Life is like a dream A star studded sky A blink of an eye Oh, how life slips by. Life is like a song

Photos are all I have At times, Of smiling familiar faces, My family spread out. I would travel often

On this New Year’s Eve Direction lost Drifting like blowing snow To and fro. A freeze comes

Looking at my journal’s Blank page While geese fly by and honk A greeting. The red cardinals

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