(2014)
Thinking about hard times and ways to deal with it.
The red cardinal high in a tree, caught my attention with his melodious chirp on my daily walk.
The flesh withers as we age But our inner spirit Remains the same. And when the body dies The spirit breaks free
Driving through the small towns of America, children of all colors playing in the streets, some with tattered clothes
Every hour we are someone Different, Every day something new Learned, Death is just another
Sitting on the lake shore, Which made my heart soar, The water rippled at times, Swirled into beautiful lines, Clouds reflected in it’s mirror,
When I sit And watch The in and out Of breath, Thoughts no longer
In the dead Of Winter, I long for Spring. In the rains Of Spring,
As I age this last quarter of my life, I am fading into the background. As I let go of roles,
The lines in my hand, Were read once, By a gypsy, who Predicated a long life... But with many interruptions.
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.
Many thoughts in the mind, Some productive, some not. They glow like fires, Created by needs and
My spirit communes with the four directions: To the north are in-laws, our aging mother, her last
Geese are honking As they fly Across an orange colored Sky. My spirit soars
I remember your smile, your laugh,… you gave so freely. It’s hard that you are gone. I sigh and walk along the bay.