I bow my head to breathe, only for a moment, raise it and the light has changed. This is how my life passes; moments of inspiration in the midst of the movement of seasons. The cardinal forages at dawn at the base of the maple tree before singing in the branches above. A daughter in search of a dream adventures off to Africa, never to return home again. One poet writes about moving "in the along" whereas I seek for a place in the in-between.
How My Life Passes

Beautiful
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