every sunrise . is a reminder; each day . is a brand new page
there are some places . visited for the first time . that just feel like home
a tree that adapts . to its surroundings, grows tall . with little effort
each morning, the dawn . erases unresolved dreams . with reality
when the calendar . disagrees with the forecast . believe the forecast
a pinwheel will spin . only if it is facing . into a stiff wind
every april there’s a winter storm; we know feels worse than it is
to walk with respect . is to share the path we’re on . without changing it
the migrating goose . returns to a frozen lake; . remembers water
every raindrop . lands but once, delivering . on its promises