We begin our journey with no compass to guide following our sun and moon hoping their direction is right from our first tentative steps taken as we were shown to our first leap out into the wide world alone our journey influenced by others we meet along the way whether it be years, months, or
I can’t help but wonder, does Nature mourn the changing of Seasons? Is it difficult to go from the vibrancy and vitality of Summer to the colorful garden of Fall and then to the slumber of Winter? Do the leaves compare themselves to others with all of the differing colors and shades of Fall? Are
I seem to have lost it though I have looked in every crevice and corner Where, I can’t help but wonder, would my Joy for Life hide? I’ve looked in the western skies as the sun sets, following the ribbons of light and color, peaked through the treetops following the birds flight, hoping they would
A Quiet Heart 