3/12/24
If we could embrace our sorrow and surf on our tears, surely our hearts would grow wider to hold the years
Pink hues from the west Filter through Snow covered boughs Leaving, The evening light
Perhaps it is the mind separating things into this and that. Perhaps it is the mind with it’s preferences
Not sure what to write while the world is on the brink of another war. While others face
Sometimes wonder about a star, way afar. How life might be in outer space,
Old friends walking on the beach, the waves bring in, memories, of carefree days;
Ambition seems overrated at this time of life, effort seems more like strife. In my youth I was motivated by a hungry desire
The chimes outside the pottery studio ring like a temple bell, calling the faithful to honor,
Easing down the gravel road, yellow leaves spiral across, like a welcome
Half a world away, I walk a narrow, stone path. In the rice fields, the Balinese people
What is truth? It’s a changing sky, One day clear, The next, cloudy, Holding the blue and grey,
When I grow really old I may have to do yoga Full time, to get out The aches and creaks. When I grow really old
I heard past generations In my son’s voice, I saw his life fly Into another dimension, A place, I can only imagine.
White heron skidding the blue, grey water, of the bay. How free and easy you make it look,
What inspires me... Hummingbirds buzzing as they land, on nearby flowers. Their amazing wings