The many places I have been And countless faces I have seen, The many tales to be told, Into the universe, they unfold. It’s all a passing show,

In the still night In the silence, My soul begs, My mind to rest. It’s story told

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

In the blink of an eye It’s a different scene On the big movie screen So easy to get absorbed In the story line of time.

My spirit communes with the four directions: To the north are in-laws, our aging mother, her last

My heart is a good heart, It beats strongly And works hard, To keep me alive. My mind is a good mind,

Blue star behind tree branch. White cloud passing half moon. Black space surrounds like a

Easing down the gravel road, yellow leaves spiral across, like a welcome

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

At that magical time When the yellow moon Sets, And the pink mist Of dawn,

Pink hues from the west Filter through Snow covered boughs Leaving, The evening light

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

Life is not fair at times... But of course things Change quickly down the line, We are born into a No guarantee world.

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

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.