When autumn trees shed their leaves
like snakes discarding skins;
they start anew, a fresher view
reborn again in spring.
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Still. Peace. Quiet.
Dew-touched webs
glisten in half-baked
sun.
Continue reading Still Morning
Rich red shooting drops
of curvy flutes.
Continue reading Rhythms of Peace
When life swallows me whole
and I’m rushed off my feet;
when I come up for air
as I try to compete
Continue reading Gasping for Breath
time is catching up
fast.
So much to do.
So much to do.
I’m late
again.
Continue reading Morning Stirs
Continue reading Peaceful Pause