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

Sitting on the lake shore, Which made my heart soar, The water rippled at times, Swirled into beautiful lines, Clouds reflected in it’s mirror,

I remember your smile, your laugh,… you gave so freely. It’s hard that you are gone. I sigh and walk along the bay.

Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy

Tonight, the wind whistles as it rushes through the atmospher… Winter’s bare limbs of swaying trees, dance in the shadows.

Photos are all I have At times, Of smiling familiar faces, My family spread out. I would travel often

Summertime gives A chance to grow Under the sun, Travel, to new places And have some fun.

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

Driving down the road, The song, “Let It Be” Came on the radio. Taking me back to Various scenarios.

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

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

Silver sliver of the moon With the bright star of Venus Trailing behind. Moonbeams casting light On the waves,

When you are not here An empty heart full of fear Arises and wonders If I will see you again. What will I do without

When I first heard “The Blackbird,” In the middle Of night, I was just thirteen.

As we shared stories, The warm hum of voices heard, A cup of love spilled.