Today as I walked under our oak trees a persistent morning breeze coaxed a myriad of leaves from their home amidst the trees.


(For those of you experiencing winter…who think a poem about fallen leaves is just wrong…Remember…I happen to live Florida…where the leaves fall all year long!)


A breeze I could not see but I could feel and hear its sound…caused a multitude of leaves to bid their their limbs adieu and flutter to the ground.


And for a moment I was a child again…I felt innocent and small

as I laid down in the grass (by the way…the best place to watch them fall).


And I found myself thanking the wind and the trees and thanking Mother Nature by her name…for once again reminding me how nothing ever stays the same..


Every day change is occurring right before our eyes…trees lose their leaves, babies are born…new clouds soar across the sky.


The weather changes every day…today it’s warmer…yesterday it was a little colder…and every day, as part of life, we grow a little older.


Since, like the leaves, our days upon this planet are finite…our time on Earth is measured…every second of life should be cherished…every moment treasured.


No moment should be thought too insignificant…

for everywhere there is magic to be found…

like laying in the grass on a breezy morning

and trying to catch some leaves as they flutter to the ground.



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There is a little bit of magic in my morning walk…in all the miles I’ve amassed.

It’s where my present meets my future as I step out of my past.


Looking back I cannot change the path I took…that is plain to see 

but where I step into the future…that is totally up to me.


For that is the glory of a new day…that’s what my morning walk is all about…I can choose to do things differently…I can take a different route.


I could choose to walk the same path, write my poems and rhyme my words…or I could choose to leave my poetry behind and just listen to the birds.


To immerse myself into the music of the morning…letting it seep into every pore.

How often when I’ve done this have I discovered sounds I’d never heard before?


Or I could take a different path completely…one I’d never walked before…a different street, a different road…perhaps a walk along the shore.


Where I might stop to breathe the morning air wafting on an ocean breeze or listen to the wind as it rustles through the trees.


Oh, I still love the sameness in my life, the daily routines I happily journey through for in that sameness I can always find a bit of magic too.


But it’s nice to know that sameness doesn’t have to be steadfast….allowing me a little bit of future magic each morning as I step out of my past.

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Kintsukuroi (KInt-soo-gi) is a Japanese art form…it is ancient…very old…it consists of repairing broken pottery with little bits of gold.


The idea is a simple one…innocent at it’s core

Where something that’s been broken can come back more beautiful than before.


It is a wonderful lesson…how something broken can be more beautiful…and new

It’s a lesson, if I’m not mistaken, that applies to people too.



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I was taught the commutative property of addition back when I still counted on my fingers and my thumbs…which stated: no matter how we group our addends…it doesn’t change the sum.


When I grew up I left the commutative property behind…

I didn’t think it had much worth…until I heard someone say the other day…

One People

One Love

One Earth.


We may not all look alike and we may pray under different steeples 

But when all is said and done we are still

One Earth

One Love

One People.


I hope the next time we pray to whatever God we pray to…

as we look up and search the sky above…

we pray that we remember we are:

One Earth

One People

One Love


And as we look backward and forward at a world that because of us is misbegotten…

let us pray we can remember the math we have long ago forgotten.


Math we were taught when we still counted on our fingers and our thumbs…

that no matter how we group our addends…

it does not change the sum..

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In the middle of my walk this morning I paused in the park to breathe the morning air

when I noticed not too far away from me…another old man sitting there.


He was talking to himself while on his face I noticed a grin

so I decided, for a little while, I would listen in.


A rabbit hopped in front of us, “Hello rabbit.” I heard him say.

“You’re the second rabbit I’ve seen already…

today must be my lucky day”.


I saw him look up at the moon, “Hello moon.” I heard him say.

“A full moon in the morning…today must be my lucky day.”


Suddenly a light rain began to fall, “Hello rain.” I heard him say.

“A little rain to cool me off…today must be my lucky day.”


Finally, we heard a bird begin to chirp, “Hello bird.” I heard him say.

“I get to hear the first song of the morning…today must be my lucky day.”


When he got up to leave he smiled at me and left without saying a word

This old man who found inspiration in a rabbit, the moon, a little rain and the singing of a bird.


“Thanks old man.” I whispered as I watched him shuffle on his way.

“I’ve learned a lot from you this morning…today must be my lucky day.”


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I am not an expert on the stars or the flowers.

I can’t think like an expert does.

I am not an expert on the stars or the flowers

but there are times…when I wish I was.


I used to dream how great it would be 

in this wonderful world of ours

to be a botanist who knows the flowers…

or an astronomer who understands the stars.


But I never got to be an expert.

An expert my parents never begat…

No…I have never been an expert

and I’m okay with that.


Because there is a distinct advantage to now knowing 

everything in sight.

It means I’m surprised most every day…

and amazed most every night.


I don’t need to know every constellation

to experience the wonder of a planet or a star.

I don’t need to know the name of every flower

to see how beautiful they are.


When I walk among a field of flowers

In a morning or afternoon breeze

I only think how lucky am I to share this beauty

with the butterflies and the bees.


Every now and then, only for a moment, I envy the experts

who have within their power

the name of every constellation, every star

and every flower.


And every now and then…

as I allow my untrained eyes and heart to wander free

I wonder if, only for a moment, 

those experts don’t envy me.



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All my life I’ve loved to draw…the many people and things in front of me.

The only problem is the things I draw…don’t always look like what I see.


It seems it should be easy which is why I do not understand

how the beauty I see before me gets distorted by my hands


I can draw the sun, a house, and occasionally…a cloud

but all my other drawings would only make Picasso’s mother proud.


My drawings might be simple, they might be incoherent and raw

but that does not deter me…for I still love to draw.


All my life I’ve loved to dance…the moment I feel the beat

but it’s hard to find the right rhythm when I was born with two left feet.


When people see me dancing (trust me it’s not a pretty sight)

they usually call for a doctor and ask if I’m all right.


My movements might be simple…might make some think I’m in a trance

but that does not deter me…for I still love to dance.


All my life I’ve loved to sing…how I envy all the birds….

for they like me are happy singing when they don’t know all the words.


I think of myself as a nightingale whose voice is beautiful once let loose…

but from what I’ve been told by others…I sound more like a goose.


My voice may sound more like a bird who has a broken wing….

but that does not deter me…for I still love to sing.


I was lucky that a long time ago I came to understand

I don’t need to be an artist, a professional dancer or a singer in a band.


For despite my little drawbacks I am as happy as a clam

Happy drawing and dancing and singing…just the way I am.



I walk the same route every morning…from this path I do not stray

because I have so many friends to greet whom I’ve met along the way.


There are the trees that tower to the sky…many, I’m sure, older than me

There’s the crickets and the owls and a host of other animals I hear but do not see.


There are the shifting clouds that are always moving 

from right to left or left to right

There are the flowers waiting for me…the ones that only bloom at night.


There are the toads and the rabbits who dart in and out of the shadows of the moon

Who either stand in one place hiding…or hop away too soon.


There are the churches with their marquis lit

with messages for the mind

There are the oranges painted by a friend

he graciously has left behind.


There are the old folks who live on the corner

the early morning enclave

who, as I round the corner

always smile and wave


There’s the homeless lady who never speaks

but will occasionally smirk

There are the silent streets of a city asleep

there’s the bookstore where I work.


There are the stars that guide me on this walk,

the moon with her occasional grin

There are the silent messages I send to my family

and release upon the wind.


I love this path I’ve chosen

love the friends I greet as on this path I roam

and I love the way this same path

always leads me home.

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I once dreamed of being a carpenter…but I don’t want to be a carpenter anymore…

Who knew there is only one right way that you can hang a door!


I dreamed of being an electrician but from that career I would quickly tire….

Who knew if you simply get your wires crossed it can easily cause a fire!


I dreamed of being a plumber but plumbing is much harder than you think

Who knew you had to be a contortionist to fit under a sink!


So I became a teacher and  I taught ’til I was old and grey.

In teaching there are no absolutes…if something doesn’t work…

you find another way.


If my students were having difficulty learning…it wasn’t an option to adjourn.

It was up to me to help them find another way…another way to learn.


If they continued having trouble…if what I was doing still didn’t reach them.

It was up to me to find another way…another way to teach them.


It’s ironic when you think about it…for me as a teacher at the end of every day

It was my students who would teach me…to find another way.


Another way of thinking…another way of viewing life

Another way of overcoming obstacles, 

overcoming heartaches, pain and strife.


Which is why I still have hope our country will survive this latest crisis…

even though things look bad today….

I have hope that people can put aside their hatred…

and find another way.


Another way of thinking

Another way to make their anger and enmity cease…

Another way to live together…

Another way to harmony and peace.


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