Pale blue moon Of August, Peeking behind The clouds, Luminous,

On this New Year’s Eve Direction lost Drifting like blowing snow To and fro. A freeze comes

In the bright moments My mind is a flame, Melting obstacles, Gaining gifts of wisdom. In the dark moments

In the noble purpose of my life, In the clear and quiet chamber Of my soul, In the open and warm cave Of my heart,

This is the America I know: A sea of white, black, red, yellow And brown faces, Strong minds and voices Raised to the sun,

Just a small part of me wants strife to go away, to return to a kinder time. Am I just losing courage? Life is draining me,

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

Yellow finches Line the bird feeder Against Spring’ s canopy Of green and purple tapestry. Back and forth they go

Time passing by now In a blink of the eye, In the clap of a hand, In the chirp of a bird, In a flash of light

Autumn wind Brings scattered leaves, Splattered, With red and gold. Autumn wind

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

The white snow lay gently on the ground in a swirl pattern. The sky, a slab of smooth grey stone.

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

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

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