In the rustle of leaves the wind plays a tune, the change of season is on the horizon. It asks permission

Not a word heard As the river flows Over rock, around Banks that lie Waiting for visitors.

My spirit communes with the four directions: To the north are in-laws, our aging mother, her last

Her smile was like gold, Her lines were often bold, Her stories of wisdom told, In books that are now sold. She has left the earth,

Walking down the dirt path, Sounds drift on the air, Birds chirping, leaves Rustling, dogs barking. Interconnection of life

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

What inspires me... Hummingbirds buzzing as they land, on nearby flowers. Their amazing wings

Last night I dreamt that I floated above the clouds, above the earth and my heart

Walking on the edge, Between awareness and sleep. Sometimes... I’m in the moment, I feel my body,

Silver sliver of the moon With the bright star of Venus Trailing behind. Moonbeams casting light On the waves,

The lines in my hand, Were read once, By a gypsy, who Predicated a long life... But with many interruptions.

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

Time is going by fast, Trying not to live in the past, To keep priorities straight And not falter at the gate. To join the universal goal

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.

Life is but a dream, our fantasies, spill, like liquid tears that pool and vaporize into the air.