(2014)
After a ride through the desert which is haunting and beautiful at the same time.
Sometimes wonder about a star, way afar. How life might be in outer space,
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
Unable to be all things For all people, Perhaps at one time, I tried. Those days are
In the dead Of Winter, I long for Spring. In the rains Of Spring,
When I sit And watch The in and out Of breath, Thoughts no longer
Tonight, the wind whistles as it rushes through the atmospher… Winter’s bare limbs of swaying trees, dance in the shadows.
At that magical time When the yellow moon Sets, And the pink mist Of dawn,
To open and risk hurt... Or stay closed but Never really live. Pain can reveal... A connection to
Photos are all I have At times, Of smiling familiar faces, My family spread out. I would travel often
What inspires me... Hummingbirds buzzing as they land, on nearby flowers. Their amazing wings
Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy
Driving through the small towns of America, children of all colors playing in the streets, some with tattered clothes
Red bird perched on a tree limb laced with snow. So happy to see him and the joy he brings.
The dance of fear, Of not being enough, Stops and starts. The unknown, an Uncharted sea,