Spring sun and breeze,
porch sitting at ease reflecting,
hip deep in tranquility, smiling
living well one breath at a time.
Possessing way more than enough.

Oh, what I miss most
is the closeness and
touch of a human hand.
A simple thing, one we
normally take for granted,
like my grandchildren's arms
around my neck. Handshakes
or hugs in greetings or farewells
with friends, all taken for granted
for years, lost to us for now,
but will eventually return.

Cradle song woven upon
a mothers arms,
                        no tears,
      no cries.

Just mothers tears,
         cuddling her baby.

No  fret just stillness,
                        she sings
           her to peace...