The older I get, the simple things become more important and I am learning to be okay with that. 8-23-2024.
Lately, a sadness pervades, I mourn for youth, perhaps passion of younger days. With age, some of that passion
Unable to be all things For all people, Perhaps at one time, I tried. Those days are
Tonight, the wind whistles as it rushes through the atmospher… Winter’s bare limbs of swaying trees, dance in the shadows.
A path with heart Is full of love Which makes us right Brings in the light And chases the dark.
An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos
Orange full moon with a half smile, a hanging lantern, lighting the way, through dark streets,
As I enter my sixty-third year, Fall leaves grace the path I love, With hues of red, Gold and orange.
The dance of fear, Of not being enough, Stops and starts. The unknown, an Uncharted sea,
At that magical time When the yellow moon Sets, And the pink mist Of dawn,
Walking on the edge, Between awareness and sleep. Sometimes... I’m in the moment, I feel my body,
Looking at my journal’s Blank page While geese fly by and honk A greeting. The red cardinals
I remember your smile, your laugh,… you gave so freely. It’s hard that you are gone. I sigh and walk along the bay.
Her smile was like gold, Her lines were often bold, Her stories of wisdom told, In books that are now sold. She has left the earth,
To open and risk hurt... Or stay closed but Never really live. Pain can reveal... A connection to
Inspiration is in the falling of rain, the soft coo of birds in late afternoon, the sinking of the