Firefly shine your light, Brighten my life, Lead the way, through The meadows, in my mind. Firefly, float so high,

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

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

The birds flock to the bird feeder, some with black, capped heads and others with

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

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

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

There is my shadow, A dark outline of this body And yet, it also holds, The hidden imperfections Of my existence.

At that magical time When the yellow moon Sets, And the pink mist Of dawn,

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

The many places I have been And countless faces I have seen, The many tales to be told, Into the universe, they unfold. It’s all a passing show,

If I had all the time In the world To write, What would I say? What would be the most

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

Tonight, the wind whistles as it rushes through the atmospher… Winter’s bare limbs of swaying trees, dance in the shadows.