Truth is always truth no matter its disguise.
Somehow the foolish understand
much better than the wise,
That love is all and love is true
...
Window presents a view:
variegated shades of verdancy
- loud yellow greens to deepest pine
& a thousand tones in between -
...
Driving by a boneyard
in January, I see winter sky
naked trees &
bare stones, row on row
...
Sky's so blue it could pierce your heart.
Fireball at its center slowly moves on its ancient way.
All in all, a day of striking beauty. A feast
for senses: warm, fragrant, life emerging
...
In times of trouble, when all seems lost
& no good outcome can be found,
our beings are shaken, emotions tossed
& our own feet can't hold the ground,
...
Look longingly,
eye on the prize,
distant horizon; whatever...
it is not enough to have
...
Waking without you has become almost natural:
absence of leaves after a storm
branches naked
shivering at a touch of wind.
...
Often I wonder
about my bones:
dry & fragile
after eons of
...
I stare through plate glass with a painter's eye.
Horizon's treeline holds me rapt;
drawn to a small clearing between walls of trees:
focal point: a huge denuded oak with widespread skeletal branches.
...
On my way to a healing workshop, driving North out of the city,
I went under an overpass & nearly lost control when a large
Golden Eagle swooped low across my hood, turned & flew
out to the open sky. His scree pierced steady thrum of engine
...