The misty, night rain, Soaking bare trees, Bringing nourishment. I stand at the window, A steady beat echoes

The chimes outside the pottery studio ring like a temple bell, calling the faithful to honor,

The many places I have been And countless faces I have seen, The many tales to be told, Into the universe, they unfold. It’s all a passing show,

Squirrels with bushy orange tails leap about the deck. Crickets hum, confused that it’s not dark yet. The caw of a blue jay

Pink hues from the west Filter through Snow covered boughs Leaving, The evening light

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

Driving through the small towns of America, children of all colors playing in the streets, some with tattered clothes

Pale blue moon Of August, Peeking behind The clouds, Luminous,

Red cardinal dancing On white snow, How regal you appear With your cloak of red, How it cheers my heart

Red, yellow and orange leaves Fall quickly now And create a tapestry of color That fill my mind With joy.

In the dead Of Winter, I long for Spring. In the rains Of Spring,

Tonight, the wind whistles as it rushes through the atmospher… Winter’s bare limbs of swaying trees, dance in the shadows.

Inhale, the arms float up, Exhale, the arms float down, Namaste, at the heart. Inhale, the body bends, Hands at top of mat,

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,

What is the happiest moment of the… When I make someone laugh When I am of use for the good When I show kindness When I hold a hand