
More years behind than ahead
Tomorrow with no lasting definitions or weight
Just a wall of trees guiding the way home
kissed by too many suns.
A touch of grace
to have and to hold
this day beginning to end….

Lighting the path beyond,
the moon leans toward a fate larger than death,
the eastern sun bullied by looming clouds of day.
Life speaks daily in the rise and fall–
hope wrapped in even the darkest morn.
It’s that time of life when gentle and innocence fall
the eyes of the deer go dark
while the heart of sporting egos reign.
We all feel broken a bit
and generations suffer generations.
As foot prints in the snow crush the buds beneath
we all stay hungry for peace.