Getting Old

our bodies fail
and friends succumb
the future short
as time unfolds

so much gone by
all food for thought
with little left
the past now rules

and wisdom gained
reveals mistakes
what wasn't done
what could have been

old age a time
for memories
but also time
to face regrets

Old Songs

songs from our past
evoke bygone days
when we were free
the future unknown

forever connected
with people and place
they unleash emotions
still fresh in our soul

some rekindle joy of
good times gone by
some trigger the pain
of loss or defeat

whatever they bring
the songs do not lie
and from their lyrics
there is no retreat 

Soul Food

the call of snow geese
from a clear blue sky
the hint of wood smoke
in the cold evening air

the crunch of snow
in the still winter woods
the hoot of an owl on
a crisp autumn night

the bugling of elk from
a high mountain ridge
the scent of a meadow
on a warm summer day

the roar of the sea
as the sun sets behind
the light of the moon
on a stark desert scene

how else to explain
my need for her realm
how else to describe
the food for my soul

Soul Mate

I hear his
whistling tune
his footsteps
on the stairs

I see his
model trains
racing round
the track

I smell the
oil and sawdust
amidst his
basement tools

he taught me
of wild birds
and took me
out to farms

we wandered
his backyard
discoveries
for this child

he died when
I was young
but we have
stayed in touch

Old Barns

across the land
these relics loom
some still intact
some in decay

their stoic grace
a welcome sight
to those who pass
and life in need

in rain and snow
a refuge there
for human stock
and nature's crew

their sturdy beams
and weathered wood
infused with scent
of earth and hay

while cityscapes
may bring delight
these rustic barns
refresh our soul

Death

a looming threat
a source of fear
a dark embrace
beyond the light

a lasting grief
for those we love
a dreaded end
to consciousness

some hope to find
a state beyond
for all the end
of life that was

we see it take
our fellow beings
their fate a sign
of what's to come

death may arrive
too soon in life
or may await
our slow decline

but come it will
to all of us
no need to waste
our span of time

Choice

there is no fate
or destiny
no master plan
or grand design

just choices made
and chances missed
when we confront
life's fleeting gifts

and then we feast
on just rewards
or dwell upon
our past mistakes

for we have this
one life to live
and how we choose
will set its course

Lives

a simple life
of good and bad
of friends and foes
of faith and hope

a private life
of doubt and shame
of love and loss
of joy and pain

and then we live
a public life
for all to see
for all to judge

Passion

unbridled love
invades our soul
for others met
or how we live

no idle thought
or casual choice
no cautious step
or planned retreat

for passion rules
when once it strikes
and thence defines
our happiness