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

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

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

On the brink of leaving, To go beyond These borders And say good-bye, To all you know,

The white snow, thin Like sand, over The fields, blowing Across the road. My car rambles

Beneath the bustling, hustling mind, deep inside, there is an oasis of calm.

On this New Year’s Eve Direction lost Drifting like blowing snow To and fro. A freeze comes

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

When you are not here An empty heart full of fear Arises and wonders If I will see you again. What will I do without

Embrace that which comes with ease: The twinkling of an eye, The drumbeat of a heart, The blooming of a flower,

Time passing by now In a blink of the eye, In the clap of a hand, In the chirp of a bird, In a flash of light

Geese are honking As they fly Across an orange colored Sky. My spirit soars

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

Holy Holy Morning glory Blooming in a haze Of purple light. Holy Holy

Lately, a sadness pervades, I mourn for youth, perhaps passion of younger days. With age, some of that passion