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Squirrels with bushy orange tails leap about the deck. Crickets hum, confused that it’s not dark yet. The caw of a blue jay
Every hour we are someone Different, Every day something new Learned, Death is just another
White heron skidding the blue, grey water, of the bay. How free and easy you make it look,
If I could go back in time I would fix my wrongs, I would sing new songs And mend all hate And open the gate
Geese are honking As they fly Across an orange colored Sky. My spirit soars
The hummingbirds are buzzing As well as the bees. The Orioles land gingerly On top of the feeder. Cautiously they move down
If we could embrace our sorrow and surf on our tears, surely our hearts would grow wider to hold the years
Birds flying here and there, landing on branches to chirp and bare, their heart. A private club among the trees with their own private code.
A path with heart Is full of love Which makes us right Brings in the light And chases the dark.
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,
The lines in my hand, Were read once, By a gypsy, who Predicated a long life... But with many interruptions.
Perhaps it is the mind separating things into this and that. Perhaps it is the mind with it’s preferences
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,
I do believe, to give to others lends meaning to our lives. To be there
The gift of summer Is the sound of a Creek flowing through Rocks. A blue bird perched