(2014)
The birds flock to the bird feeder, some with black, capped heads and others with
Red and gold leaves Falling, Sing to me Of the season of change, Before the snow,
Summer is near it’s end, I regret not visiting my childhood home, near the gulf, where the sunset
The lines in my hand, Were read once, By a gypsy, who Predicated a long life... But with many interruptions.
Thoughts flicker like twinkling lights, ride them across the sky. Embrace your dream,
Remember the night we took your mother’s car and drove over the skyway bridge? The moon was a bright light to show the way.
Squirrels with bushy orange tails leap about the deck. Crickets hum, confused that it’s not dark yet. The caw of a blue jay
A path with heart Is full of love Which makes us right Brings in the light And chases the dark.
Twilight slides in quietly as birds fly to warm nests. Pink hues of evening reflect in the clouds. Soon the moon
In the rustle of leaves the wind plays a tune, the change of season is on the horizon. It asks permission
One lit candle burns brightly As I make a wish upon it’s Golden aura, that Humankind May learn to caress the earth As the wind does a field of flower…
I heard past generations In my son’s voice, I saw his life fly Into another dimension, A place, I can only imagine.
Half a world away, I walk a narrow, stone path. In the rice fields, the Balinese people
Dark bulk of a single bird, With red puffed up chest, As winter’s breeze sways his perch…
Geese are honking As they fly Across an orange colored Sky. My spirit soars