White farmhouse at dusk
A strong wind blows through the fields
The sound of wind chimes.


Words flow from my mind
To symbols on a white page
Breath and life in them.


A vast cathedral
The blood and body of Christ
Makes me feel renewed.


Snowy mountain peaks
Silent for thousands of years
They do not worry.
Sunday mountain hike
the golden plains to the east
Denver looks so small
city street autumn
cars slush through rainy day streets
the warmth of my coat
foot path in the rain
the sound of rain in autumn
fog on the mountain
Water flowing cold
a smooth rush over big rocks
smell of pine needles


Bright, Loud, Jazz music
wild drummer smiling.
Lonely forest path
tall mountains watch over me
Moose drinking water.


Incense smoke rises,
the muffled sound of prayers
God is present here.


Black hat on my head,
Warms me, hides me, from the cold,
world, and its people.


I quiet my mind,
To feel what is inside me,
Fear and sadness there
Mountain breeze blowing,
Against the red rocks,
Pine tree says hello
Cool October day,
Warmed by the bright mid-day sun,
Bathing in the rays.

Piano so soft
Like water in the distance.
No moment but now.


Rays of sun so warm
At the top of the meadow
Wind rustles the leaves.
Over the mountains,
Setting sun reveals layers,
And shadows between.

Slow Autumn

Rain sopping, slowly
As one wrings out a wash cloth,
Street covered with leaves.