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,

The white snow, thin Like sand, over The fields, blowing Across the road. My car rambles

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

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

Not sure where we are headed, Could be a long ride, Keep your heart steady, Open wide your eyes. There is something to learn

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

What is truth? It’s a changing sky, One day clear, The next, cloudy, Holding the blue and grey,

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

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

The chimes outside the pottery studio ring like a temple bell, calling the faithful to honor,

When I sit And watch The in and out Of breath, Thoughts no longer

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

Beneath the bustling, hustling mind, deep inside, there is an oasis of calm.

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

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