Ready for this pandemic to be over, but who isn't! 7/2020
Perhaps it is the mind separating things into this and that. Perhaps it is the mind with it’s preferences
I heard past generations In my son’s voice, I saw his life fly Into another dimension, A place, I can only imagine.
Walking down the dirt path, Sounds drift on the air, Birds chirping, leaves Rustling, dogs barking. Interconnection of life
Memories of my childhood Visit more and more Each day, As ghosts of past relatives Cast their shadows,
Last night I dreamt that I floated above the clouds, above the earth and my heart
As I enter my sixty-third year, Fall leaves grace the path I love, With hues of red, Gold and orange.
A path with heart Is full of love Which makes us right Brings in the light And chases the dark.
I lay still While my loved one, Sleeps. His warm hand In my hand,
As we shared stories, The warm hum of voices heard, A cup of love spilled.
It’s that time of year again. The sound of honking geese fills the air, as they pass in alignment, to the Deep South.
Harsh reality smacks like a slap of cold wind. Sometimes I’m a tough sailor, at the helm,
If I could go back in time I would fix my wrongs, I would sing new songs And mend all hate And open the gate
Summertime gives A chance to grow Under the sun, Travel, to new places And have some fun.
My spirit communes with the four directions: To the north are in-laws, our aging mother, her last
I remember your smile, your laugh,… you gave so freely. It’s hard that you are gone. I sigh and walk along the bay.