2-2018. Winter has it's moments, but wishing spring comes soon!
As I enter my sixty-third year, Fall leaves grace the path I love, With hues of red, Gold and orange.
Leaves falling, Another season Decorating the earth. One red leaf In my path,
This is the America I know: A sea of white, black, red, yellow And brown faces, Strong minds and voices Raised to the sun,
This evening the blank, white page is open. My nerves are on edge, while a storm forms on the horizon.
Orange full moon with a half smile, a hanging lantern, lighting the way, through dark streets,
If I had all the time In the world To write, What would I say? What would be the most
Looking at my journal’s Blank page While geese fly by and honk A greeting. The red cardinals
The chimes outside the pottery studio ring like a temple bell, calling the faithful to honor,
There is my shadow, A dark outline of this body And yet, it also holds, The hidden imperfections Of my existence.
Tonight, the wind whistles as it rushes through the atmospher… Winter’s bare limbs of swaying trees, dance in the shadows.
One year since I traveled to paradise. One year since I laughed and danced with friends. One year since I watched
It is what it is Despite my wishes for it, Otherwise. You are who you are Despite my expectations,
An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos
What is truth? It’s a changing sky, One day clear, The next, cloudy, Holding the blue and grey,
Pretend there is no tomorrow becau… there might not be. Live like there is only this momen… that is the truth. Nothing is solid but whispery,