6-2017
The gift of summer Is the sound of a Creek flowing through Rocks. A blue bird perched
What is truth? It’s a changing sky, One day clear, The next, cloudy, Holding the blue and grey,
As I age this last quarter of my life, I am fading into the background. As I let go of roles,
Orange full moon with a half smile, a hanging lantern, lighting the way, through dark streets,
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
Looking at my journal’s Blank page While geese fly by and honk A greeting. The red cardinals
Red, yellow and orange leaves Fall quickly now And create a tapestry of color That fill my mind With joy.
Ambition seems overrated at this time of life, effort seems more like strife. In my youth I was motivated by a hungry desire
Inhale, the arms float up, Exhale, the arms float down, Namaste, at the heart. Inhale, the body bends, Hands at top of mat,
Red and gold leaves Falling, Sing to me Of the season of change, Before the snow,
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,
Twilight slides in quietly as birds fly to warm nests. Pink hues of evening reflect in the clouds. Soon the moon
Dark bulk of a single bird, With red puffed up chest, As winter’s breeze sways his perch…
I remember your smile, your laugh,… you gave so freely. It’s hard that you are gone. I sigh and walk along the bay.
This is the America I know: A sea of white, black, red, yellow And brown faces, Strong minds and voices Raised to the sun,