In the noble purpose of my life, In the clear and quiet chamber Of my soul, In the open and warm cave Of my heart,

The white snow lay gently on the ground in a swirl pattern. The sky, a slab of smooth grey stone.

You may not know what you’ll do next: Hit the open road With your thumb stuck out. Give up all you own

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

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

Not a word heard As the river flows Over rock, around Banks that lie Waiting for visitors.

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

Blue star behind tree branch. White cloud passing half moon. Black space surrounds like a

Time is going by fast, Trying not to live in the past, To keep priorities straight And not falter at the gate. To join the universal goal

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

Today, I wish the pain to go, the fatigue that I fight so. This process of aging is unkind and yet, the law of nature is a fast lane of change.

As I enter my sixty-third year, Fall leaves grace the path I love, With hues of red, Gold and orange.

I remember your smile, your laugh,… you gave so freely. It’s hard that you are gone. I sigh and walk along the bay.

Ambition seems overrated at this time of life, effort seems more like strife. In my youth I was motivated by a hungry desire

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