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

I lay still While my loved one, Sleeps. His warm hand In my hand,

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

If I could go back in time I would fix my wrongs, I would sing new songs And mend all hate And open the gate

Walking on the edge, Between awareness and sleep. Sometimes... I’m in the moment, I feel my body,

Pink hues from the west Filter through Snow covered boughs Leaving, The evening light

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.

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

It’s that time of year again. The sound of honking geese fills the air, as they pass in alignment, to the Deep South.

The buck in the garden Chewing up hard earned Labor, His antlers raise, His ears perk up, as

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

This evening the blank, white page is open. My nerves are on edge, while a storm forms on the horizon.

The red cardinal high in a tree, caught my attention with his melodious chirp on my daily walk.

To open and risk hurt... Or stay closed but Never really live. Pain can reveal... A connection to

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