Dark bulk of a single bird, With red puffed up chest, As winter’s breeze sways his perch…

Come with me To the mountain top, Where the crest touches The sky And the air so pure,

Just a small part of me wants strife to go away, to return to a kinder time. Am I just losing courage? Life is draining me,

Pale blue moon Of August, Peeking behind The clouds, Luminous,

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

Some days you’re in bliss, Some days you’re in pain. Some days you’re up in the clouds, Some days you’re down in the flame… Some days you get what you want

The chimes outside the pottery studio ring like a temple bell, calling the faithful to honor,

Time passing by now In a blink of the eye, In the clap of a hand, In the chirp of a bird, In a flash of light

Inspiration is in the falling of rain, the soft coo of birds in late afternoon, the sinking of the

An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos

Standing at a crossroad Between this life And the next, Heart in hand I knock on that

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

The wind went through me, it carried the yellow, orange and red leaves lightly on the air. Another change is coming,

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

What is truth? It’s a changing sky, One day clear, The next, cloudy, Holding the blue and grey,