2-8-24. Thoughts on aging and letting go.
It is what it is Despite my wishes for it, Otherwise. You are who you are Despite my expectations,
The chimes outside the pottery studio ring like a temple bell, calling the faithful to honor,
A path with heart Is full of love Which makes us right Brings in the light And chases the dark.
Remember the night we took your mother’s car and drove over the skyway bridge? The moon was a bright light to show the way.
Itchy eyes scaly feet achy joints and bad teeth hair so fine
Summer is near it’s end, I regret not visiting my childhood home, near the gulf, where the sunset
First snow of the season Came down light and gay, With it’s bright white, Reflecting, Off slow moving clouds
As I enter my sixty-third year, Fall leaves grace the path I love, With hues of red, Gold and orange.
Misty fog floating through bare trees. Cold waves of wind coarse through the woods whistling as they go
Grateful for: Sunrise of pink and gold Showing the way, Lighting the sky, To another blessed day.
Holiday cheer and laughter, Multicolored lights blink faster, Music of love and good will, Grace the air like snowflakes. Tis the season to be compassionate…
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
In the dead Of Winter, I long for Spring. In the rains Of Spring,
Mr. R. would talk about his deceased brother, he dreamed about him frequently; also of an eagle
The red cardinal high in a tree, caught my attention with his melodious chirp on my daily walk.