I look around me and all I see is the wonders of creation, may I never take these for granted.
Each day I sit on my porch and watch the steady change of the leaves as they surrender to the change of the season.
The cold under my feet as it creeps up into my bones is a warning as much as it is a herald.
The human side, the carnal wishes to store, stash and hoard just like the squirrels that I see in the trees.
The soul, the spiritual the part that sees and understands desires that I stop.
Each leaf, splash of color and cold blast is a gift deep and profound.
Without the heart, soul and head I pass it all by never knowing the gift that is before me.
Changing leaves, sunsets, and full moons are stored up in my mind and heart to be taken out
on another day.
Like the paintings of the masters each brush stroke on the canvas of life is singular and unique.
Made just for me.