my 67th year on earth

A red tail hawk flying west, toward the Vaca Mountains. She doesn't need directions, she doesn't need a name. Behind her, the first hint of a new sunrise. A chilly morning in California's central valley.

__________

The creek dark and fat from rain 

Makes its way southeast 

Draining this part of the valley

Water, gravity, and time

I think of Putah Creek as mine 

But really it’s the other way around

-How can you own a creek-

I am getting wet in the drizzle

Time passes as the water passes

Time

Yes, I have plenty of that 

__________

In the dream I wasn't at the battle, but I attended the injured warriors after, not like a doctor, but like a priest. I held them and prayed and closed their eyes.

__________

Mid-autumn, California’s central valley

Looking up at the night sky 

The fall constellations are aloft

Flung out across the black sky

But the changes in the trees are still subtle

A hint of red here, a glimpse of gold there

My footsteps in the first fallen leaves

Make a pleasant sound 

I find it nice to hear 

And overhead, the sad-sounding cries

Of the geese as they travel fast

My 67th year on earth

When I am alone, I am not lonely

And when I am lonely, I am not alone

James Lee Jobe 

The spiritual journey is not about acquiring something outside yourself, rather, you are penetrating deep layers and veils to return to the deepest truth of your own being.

Ram Dass

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Many thanks --

James