(2014)
Mr. R. would talk about his deceased brother, he dreamed about him frequently; also of an eagle
Perhaps it is the mind separating things into this and that. Perhaps it is the mind with it’s preferences
Standing at a crossroad Between this life And the next, Heart in hand I knock on that
Remember goodness in the fire of e… Remember joy in the center of sorr… Remember love in the flood of hate… Remember courage in the pit of fea… It’s never too late.
The white snow, thin Like sand, over The fields, blowing Across the road. My car rambles
I lay still While my loved one, Sleeps. His warm hand In my hand,
Lately, a sadness pervades, I mourn for youth, perhaps passion of younger days. With age, some of that passion
I heard past generations In my son’s voice, I saw his life fly Into another dimension, A place, I can only imagine.
Memories of my childhood Visit more and more Each day, As ghosts of past relatives Cast their shadows,
Summer is near it’s end, I regret not visiting my childhood home, near the gulf, where the sunset
What is truth? It’s a changing sky, One day clear, The next, cloudy, Holding the blue and grey,
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
Silver sliver of the moon With the bright star of Venus Trailing behind. Moonbeams casting light On the waves,
Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy
This evening the blank, white page is open. My nerves are on edge, while a storm forms on the horizon.