Light summer breezes
Lift my hair softly
like a mothers touch.
Songbird’s chorus
a melody of life.

on such days as this
I walk with saints
For heaven is
within these hills.

The bending barley
yellow in the fading light
pointing to home.
In the valley
the cottage windows
reflecting heaven.

my fingertips
touch the living flora.
Communicating completely
without the need of language.

Seasons are changing
we pass around
the sun so quickly,
perhaps only for me
but slowly
for this wonderful planet
as it spins into infinity.