Come with me To the mountain top, Where the crest touches The sky And the air so pure,

Great scientific minds Working for cures Of terminal diseases, The clock ticks... What is the cure

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

An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos

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

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

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

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

Every hour we are someone Different, Every day something new Learned, Death is just another

Pretend there is no tomorrow becau… there might not be. Live like there is only this momen… that is the truth. Nothing is solid but whispery,

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

Geese are honking As they fly Across an orange colored Sky. My spirit soars

Perhaps it is the mind separating things into this and that. Perhaps it is the mind with it’s preferences

Time is going by fast, Trying not to live in the past, To keep priorities straight And not falter at the gate. To join the universal goal

A path with heart Is full of love Which makes us right Brings in the light And chases the dark.