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Monday, January 30, 2017

Seventeen Syllables for Twenty Seventeen

#seventeensyllablesfortwentyseventeen

Memories fade, but
not so good friends.
I’m so happy I have a few.

I’m feeling a little
Pineapple-ly today
In life’s fruit salad.

Grace, gratitude and generosity
seem to work
just fine for me.

I’m aiming mostly
for calm, happy,
not cool, rich or desirable.

I now live the life I choose,
with friendship and Spirit
at its center.

I affirm today,
twenty-seventeen is
a joy-filled year for me.

After  enlightenment,
there remains so much truth
left to discover.

How thrilling to realize
we have purpose.
More so to fulfill it.

I’d like to learn
to speak hummingbird.
They seem to have
a lot to say.

Easy to see, as I age,
I’m always the victim
of my own rage.

Clouds on the horizon
remind me my roof
needs attention, a mend.

Darkness from the east
reminds me I am needed
to be a good friend.

From Russia with love.
I think I’ll just
hibernate for
the next four years.



True right thoughts
and right actions
will usually lead
to right results.

Serene patience in a grocery
checkout line.
Ha, ha, ha , ha, ha!

I learned to live with pain.
Can I help make America love again?

There is suffering in the world.
It can be overcome.
Yes it can.

Everything is impermanent.
Everything, except true ohana.

Even in retirement,
one might work
joyfully and peacefully.

Breathing in with grace,
exhaling with gratitude,
life is just too good.




And so they decided
from day one:
They go low,
we go high.
Thank you.

She said, do what you can.
If you can’t, you just can’t.
Nothing else to it.


Having borne guilt, shame,
regret and sadness,
I have no room left for hate.


Sirens in the distance
do not trouble me.
Too busy with the birds.

Just sitting in my room,
lost in my thoughts.
Suddenly,
I find myself.

I am attempting
to be open, cheerful,
and, at the same time,
brave.

My brain doesn’t know
what’s real or imagined.
I might as well dream.

MY brain tells me to
criticize, to run my mouth.
My heart wants to help.

For the second time
in fifty years, I’m beset
by Agent Orange.

Max cat playing on
the floor with his little toys.
Alternative mice.

We oft speak from our
Spiritual sources.
She has hers, I have mine.

Sometimes, it’s a mess
when you say yes. Even so,
it’s hard to say no.

What will I do
in place of my friends?
What will they do
in place of me?
When hiking, I go slow, observe.
Quite Zen.
Of course,
I’m also quite old.

I wonder if I
accept wondrous gifts in a
wonder-filled manner

You will discover
unexpected treasure, says
the fortune cookie.

There’s a time for
doing things, and one for
becoming quiet.
Both are dear.

You are always welcome
at social events,
says the fortune cookie.

I will do my best
to remember to pray when
things are going well.

It seems best, when in doubt,
to err on the side of
communication.



The guard hummingbird
in our backyard lives alone.
That’s as it should be.

So happy for the
joy in my life now. I am
filled with abundance.

All prayers are answered,
but God’s rejections
are just Sprit’s protections.

Someone should do something about this.
What?
Me?
Oh, yeah.
I.
Am.

Someone.