Fall is my favorite season but they all have a purpose and beauty. 10-12-22.
An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos
When I grow really old I may have to do yoga Full time, to get out The aches and creaks. When I grow really old
Holiday cheer and laughter, Multicolored lights blink faster, Music of love and good will, Grace the air like snowflakes. Tis the season to be compassionate…
Mr. R. would talk about his deceased brother, he dreamed about him frequently; also of an eagle
Orange full moon with a half smile, a hanging lantern, lighting the way, through dark streets,
The lines in my hand, Were read once, By a gypsy, who Predicated a long life... But with many interruptions.
On a walk this morning, the rocky cliffs that reach the blue-green sea, talk of strength today.
One year since I traveled to paradise. One year since I laughed and danced with friends. One year since I watched
Tonight, the wind whistles as it rushes through the atmospher… Winter’s bare limbs of swaying trees, dance in the shadows.
Sometimes wonder about a star, way afar. How life might be in outer space,
On a walk, many Brown-Eye Susan line the border, before the woods. Rain clouds move closer as if to give a hug, while
Life is a day dream So they say, With every beat Of my heart, The gate to love
Half a world away, I walk a narrow, stone path. In the rice fields, the Balinese people
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,
You may not know what you’ll do next: Hit the open road With your thumb stuck out. Give up all you own