Standing at a crossroad Between this life And the next, Heart in hand I knock on that

Lately, a sadness pervades, I mourn for youth, perhaps passion of younger days. With age, some of that passion

Summer is near it’s end, I regret not visiting my childhood home, near the gulf, where the sunset

The buck in the garden Chewing up hard earned Labor, His antlers raise, His ears perk up, as

The gift of summer Is the sound of a Creek flowing through Rocks. A blue bird perched

Her smile was like gold, Her lines were often bold, Her stories of wisdom told, In books that are now sold. She has left the earth,

Mr. R. would talk about his deceased brother, he dreamed about him frequently; also of an eagle

Cold spring rain chills my body And yet, the birds fly in unison As if, it is a sunny day. The white tail deer Bounce through the ravine

Yellow finches Line the bird feeder Against Spring’ s canopy Of green and purple tapestry. Back and forth they go

One lit candle burns brightly As I make a wish upon it’s Golden aura, that Humankind May learn to caress the earth As the wind does a field of flower…

When I sit And watch The in and out Of breath, Thoughts no longer

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

On a walk, many Brown-Eye Susan line the border, before the woods. Rain clouds move closer as if to give a hug, while

What inspires me... Hummingbirds buzzing as they land, on nearby flowers. Their amazing wings

Red bird perched on a tree limb laced with snow. So happy to see him and the joy he brings.