4-1-19
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,
To open and risk hurt... Or stay closed but Never really live. Pain can reveal... A connection to
Red, yellow and orange leaves Fall quickly now And create a tapestry of color That fill my mind With joy.
Red bird perched on a tree limb laced with snow. So happy to see him and the joy he brings.
As I enter my sixty-third year, Fall leaves grace the path I love, With hues of red, Gold and orange.
Some days you’re in bliss, Some days you’re in pain. Some days you’re up in the clouds, Some days you’re down in the flame… Some days you get what you want
Summer is near it’s end, I regret not visiting my childhood home, near the gulf, where the sunset
Walking on the beach of long ago, the constant roll of the gulf, it’s sound, like a lullaby.
If we could embrace our sorrow and surf on our tears, surely our hearts would grow wider to hold the years
When I sit And watch The in and out Of breath, Thoughts no longer
Squirrels with bushy orange tails leap about the deck. Crickets hum, confused that it’s not dark yet. The caw of a blue jay
Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy
Rolling painted deserts of the west. Shrub bushes dot sloping hillsides. Relentless sun heats up
Pretend there is no tomorrow becau… there might not be. Live like there is only this momen… that is the truth. Nothing is solid but whispery,