The Races

The Races I sit on the back porch Night Cool breeze stirring in its freedom The crickets chirping all around me An occasional change in their rhythm Rarely a change in their rhyme The waxing moon rests above Saturn in her gracious clutches Peace, tranquility, good This is the realm beyond time – Off in…

Mountain of Smoke

I stand at the base of the mountain of smoke No thunder, no fire, no trumpets Just stillness, quiet, wind In the distance soft An ancient flute begins to sing Just stillness, quiet, and wind And the sound of God walking in His garden The opportunity rises again Once again I am given a choice…