Rolling painted deserts of the west. Shrub bushes dot sloping hillsides. Relentless sun heats up

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

Harsh reality smacks like a slap of cold wind. Sometimes I’m a tough sailor, at the helm,

Birds flying here and there, landing on branches to chirp and bare, their heart. A private club among the trees with their own private code.

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

As I age this last quarter of my life, I am fading into the background. As I let go of roles,

When I grow really old I may have to do yoga Full time, to get out The aches and creaks. When I grow really old

Some days you’re in bliss, Some days you’re in pain. Some days you’re up in the clouds, Some days you’re down in the flame… Some days you get what you want

Just a small part of me wants strife to go away, to return to a kinder time. Am I just losing courage? Life is draining me,

In the still night In the silence, My soul begs, My mind to rest. It’s story told

In the noble purpose of my life, In the clear and quiet chamber Of my soul, In the open and warm cave Of my heart,

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

This evening the blank, white page is open. My nerves are on edge, while a storm forms on the horizon.

Driving down the road, The song, “Let It Be” Came on the radio. Taking me back to Various scenarios.

You may not know what you’ll do next: Hit the open road With your thumb stuck out. Give up all you own