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

In the bright moments My mind is a flame, Melting obstacles, Gaining gifts of wisdom. In the dark moments

Perhaps it is the mind separating things into this and that. Perhaps it is the mind with it’s preferences

White heron skidding the blue, grey water, of the bay. How free and easy you make it look,

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,

The white snow lay gently on the ground in a swirl pattern. The sky, a slab of smooth grey stone.

Photos are all I have At times, Of smiling familiar faces, My family spread out. I would travel often

Twilight slides in quietly as birds fly to warm nests. Pink hues of evening reflect in the clouds. Soon the moon

Summertime gives A chance to grow Under the sun, Travel, to new places And have some fun.

Life is like a dream A star studded sky A blink of an eye Oh, how life slips by. Life is like a song

First snow of the season Came down light and gay, With it’s bright white, Reflecting, Off slow moving clouds

To open and risk hurt... Or stay closed but Never really live. Pain can reveal... A connection to

Easing down the gravel road, yellow leaves spiral across, like a welcome

Come with me To the mountain top, Where the crest touches The sky And the air so pure,

Blue star behind tree branch. White cloud passing half moon. Black space surrounds like a