As I enter my sixty-third year, Fall leaves grace the path I love, With hues of red, Gold and orange.

The misty, night rain, Soaking bare trees, Bringing nourishment. I stand at the window, A steady beat echoes

To open and risk hurt... Or stay closed but Never really live. Pain can reveal... A connection to

Brown hawk with spotted tail, soaring on the wind, balancing like a sail. Your piercing cry

In the bright moments My mind is a flame, Melting obstacles, Gaining gifts of wisdom. In the dark moments

I lay still While my loved one, Sleeps. His warm hand In my hand,

Half a world away, I walk a narrow, stone path. In the rice fields, the Balinese people

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

First snow of the season Came down light and gay, With it’s bright white, Reflecting, Off slow moving clouds

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

Old friends walking on the beach, the waves bring in, memories, of carefree days;

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.

On this New Year’s Eve Direction lost Drifting like blowing snow To and fro. A freeze comes

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

Red and gold leaves Falling, Sing to me Of the season of change, Before the snow,