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

It’s that time of year again. The sound of honking geese fills the air, as they pass in alignment, to the Deep South.

The lines in my hand, Were read once, By a gypsy, who Predicated a long life... But with many interruptions.

Lately, a sadness pervades, I mourn for youth, perhaps passion of younger days. With age, some of that passion

Red, yellow and orange leaves Fall quickly now And create a tapestry of color That fill my mind With joy.

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

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

What is the happiest moment of the… When I make someone laugh When I am of use for the good When I show kindness When I hold a hand

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,

Harsh reality smacks like a slap of cold wind. Sometimes I’m a tough sailor, at the helm,

As I age this last quarter of my life, I am fading into the background. As I let go of roles,

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.

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…

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

Walking on the edge, Between awareness and sleep. Sometimes... I’m in the moment, I feel my body,