Seventeen each day,
I’m poetry in action.
There is rhythm there.
Yes, time might be short
but there is still no such thing
as too many books.
We’re not all alike.
Lemons float while most limes sink.
Be kind to sinkers.
Peace lives in my heart.
It’s always a part of me.
It can’t be destroyed.
I live to see them,
small amounts of pure beauty.
God’s gifts to us all.
“Why me?” doesn’t help.
A better choice might just be:
“What can I do now?”
I plan for what’s next
but try not to fret on it.
What will be will be.
You can try to shame,
or you can lead with your love.
It’s always your call.
Friends appreciate
you reaching out to them now
more than you might think.
The shape of a mind
depends upon whose it is.
For me, serpentine.
A Venn diagram:
Love, gratitude, hopefulness…
Humble arises.
I’m seventy-eight
now, let me elaborate,
my life is just great.
I have loved my life,
and it has loved me right back,
as I live in joy.
I cast my net wide,
go forward with hopefulness,
expect only good.
It’s an honor, such
a blessing, to know people
throughout a lifetime.
I’m comfortable
because I chose harmony
with Spirit itself.
I notice how life
does support me when I make
choices consciously.
Love with abandon,
contribute to a nicer,
friendlier world.
I cooperate
with my own healing and find
that it really helps.
I enjoy my own
company, sitting, pausing,
immersed in no thoughts.
I am a candle
which cannot be extinguished.
I’m a lightworker.
Why do I say no
when yes would serve me better?
Mysterious, huh?
Every poem I write
stems from living, reading and
really listening.
I do what I can
to not make my mind a foe,
tell it of my heart.
Teachers change our lives.
We should conspire to aid and
better abet them.
Do be an artist.
Yes, be a kindness artist.
Paint that picture now.
Future’s on the way,
so why not assume the best?
We can make it so.
If my faith depends
on approval from others,
it’s too small for me.
When things get too hard,
as they sometimes do for me,
ask if it’s worth it.
It takes faith and skill
to trust in the unknowing.
Just sit with the flow.
Time can’t be trusted.
Young, it is forever’s start.
Old, much the same thing.
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