When I first heard “The Blackbird,” In the middle Of night, I was just thirteen.

Driving down the road, The song, “Let It Be” Came on the radio. Taking me back to Various scenarios.

Today, I wish the pain to go, the fatigue that I fight so. This process of aging is unkind and yet, the law of nature is a fast lane of change.

Embrace that which comes with ease: The twinkling of an eye, The drumbeat of a heart, The blooming of a flower,

As I age this last quarter of my life, I am fading into the background. As I let go of roles,

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,

First snow of the season Came down light and gay, With it’s bright white, Reflecting, Off slow moving clouds

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

Walking down the dirt path, Sounds drift on the air, Birds chirping, leaves Rustling, dogs barking. Interconnection of life

Tonight, the wind whistles as it rushes through the atmospher… Winter’s bare limbs of swaying trees, dance in the shadows.

In the noble purpose of my life, In the clear and quiet chamber Of my soul, In the open and warm cave Of my heart,

Orange full moon with a half smile, a hanging lantern, lighting the way, through dark streets,

Birds flying here and there, landing on branches to chirp and bare, their heart. A private club among the trees with their own private code.

In the rustle of leaves the wind plays a tune, the change of season is on the horizon. It asks permission

The lines in my hand, Were read once, By a gypsy, who Predicated a long life... But with many interruptions.