As we shared stories, The warm hum of voices heard, A cup of love spilled.

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

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

On a walk this morning, the rocky cliffs that reach the blue-green sea, talk of strength today.

The flesh withers as we age But our inner spirit Remains the same. And when the body dies The spirit breaks free

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

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

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

My heart is a good heart, It beats strongly And works hard, To keep me alive. My mind is a good mind,

Some days you’re in bliss, Some days you’re in pain. Some days you’re up in the clouds, Some days you’re down in the flame… Some days you get what you want

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

Driving through the small towns of America, children of all colors playing in the streets, some with tattered clothes

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

One year since I traveled to paradise. One year since I laughed and danced with friends. One year since I watched

When I grow really old I may have to do yoga Full time, to get out The aches and creaks. When I grow really old