Yellow finches Line the bird feeder Against Spring’ s canopy Of green and purple tapestry. Back and forth they go

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

Inspiration is in the falling of rain, the soft coo of birds in late afternoon, the sinking of the

Twilight slides in quietly as birds fly to warm nests. Pink hues of evening reflect in the clouds. Soon the moon

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

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

Memories of my childhood Visit more and more Each day, As ghosts of past relatives Cast their shadows,

Pretend there is no tomorrow becau… there might not be. Live like there is only this momen… that is the truth. Nothing is solid but whispery,

Standing at a crossroad Between this life And the next, Heart in hand I knock on that

Life is but a dream, our fantasies, spill, like liquid tears that pool and vaporize into the air.

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

Red sun in the morning rolling up the side of earth. The sky turned pink, as a ball of fire showed it’s strength,

In the dead Of Winter, I long for Spring. In the rains Of Spring,

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.

Grateful for: Sunrise of pink and gold Showing the way, Lighting the sky, To another blessed day.