The west coast of FLA. is hot in the summer but there is always a breeze and water to cool off in or so I remember when I was a child.
If I had all the time In the world To write, What would I say? What would be the most
Pink hues from the west Filter through Snow covered boughs Leaving, The evening light
It is what it is Despite my wishes for it, Otherwise. You are who you are Despite my expectations,
Firefly shine your light, Brighten my life, Lead the way, through The meadows, in my mind. Firefly, float so high,
It’s that time of year again. The sound of honking geese fills the air, as they pass in alignment, to the Deep South.
Inhale, the arms float up, Exhale, the arms float down, Namaste, at the heart. Inhale, the body bends, Hands at top of mat,
Great scientific minds Working for cures Of terminal diseases, The clock ticks... What is the cure
As I age this last quarter of my life, I am fading into the background. As I let go of roles,
In the rustle of leaves the wind plays a tune, the change of season is on the horizon. It asks permission
Red and gold leaves Falling, Sing to me Of the season of change, Before the snow,
Mr. R. would talk about his deceased brother, he dreamed about him frequently; also of an eagle
Brown hawk with spotted tail, soaring on the wind, balancing like a sail. Your piercing cry
Squirrels with bushy orange tails leap about the deck. Crickets hum, confused that it’s not dark yet. The caw of a blue jay
In the bright moments My mind is a flame, Melting obstacles, Gaining gifts of wisdom. In the dark moments
Dark bulk of a single bird, With red puffed up chest, As winter’s breeze sways his perch…