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

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

The dance of fear, Of not being enough, Stops and starts. The unknown, an Uncharted sea,

Misty fog floating through bare trees. Cold waves of wind coarse through the woods whistling as they go

At that magical time When the yellow moon Sets, And the pink mist Of dawn,

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

Today, I wish the pain to go, the fatigue that I fight so. This process of aging is unkind and yet, the law of nature is a fast lane of change.

Red cardinal dancing On white snow, How regal you appear With your cloak of red, How it cheers my heart

I lay still While my loved one, Sleeps. His warm hand In my hand,

In the dead Of Winter, I long for Spring. In the rains Of Spring,

Red bird perched on a tree limb laced with snow. So happy to see him and the joy he brings.

Firefly shine your light, Brighten my life, Lead the way, through The meadows, in my mind. Firefly, float so high,

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

Leaves falling, Another season Decorating the earth. One red leaf In my path,