It is what it is Despite my wishes for it, Otherwise. You are who you are Despite my expectations,

Life is but a dream, our fantasies, spill, like liquid tears that pool and vaporize into the air.

Harsh reality smacks like a slap of cold wind. Sometimes I’m a tough sailor, at the helm,

Birds flying here and there, landing on branches to chirp and bare, their heart. A private club among the trees with their own private code.

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

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

White heron skidding the blue, grey water, of the bay. How free and easy you make it look,

On a walk this morning, the rocky cliffs that reach the blue-green sea, talk of strength today.

Memories of my childhood Visit more and more Each day, As ghosts of past relatives Cast their shadows,

Last night I dreamt that I floated above the clouds, above the earth and my heart

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

It’s a billion stars moving and co… While we sleep. It’s one miracle after another and… We do not take the leap. It’s the great heave of nature

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

Looking at my journal’s Blank page While geese fly by and honk A greeting. The red cardinals