The birds flock to the bird feeder, some with black, capped heads and others with

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

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,

Not sure where we are headed, Could be a long ride, Keep your heart steady, Open wide your eyes. There is something to learn

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

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

Yellow finches Line the bird feeder Against Spring’ s canopy Of green and purple tapestry. Back and forth they go

Itchy eyes scaly feet achy joints and bad teeth hair so fine

Unable to be all things For all people, Perhaps at one time, I tried. Those days are

Soft gray clouds pass slowly by, Soon they will release a gift of r… Trees are shedding their leaves As they turn red, orange and yello… Signaling the squirrels to collect…

The gift of summer Is the sound of a Creek flowing through Rocks. A blue bird perched

What is truth? It’s a changing sky, One day clear, The next, cloudy, Holding the blue and grey,

Mr. R. would talk about his deceased brother, he dreamed about him frequently; also of an eagle

Oh billionaires! How you have lost your soul, lost the goal and kneel down

Red sun in the morning rolling up the side of earth. The sky turned pink, as a ball of fire showed it’s strength,