Ripples of clouds
Layered like whisked milk

A glimpse of gold

Birds, beaks down
Picking salty offerings
Of low tide

Sleeping boats lie
Exposing their bellies

Brave ivy clinging to railings

Silver hairs decorating
Narrow skin of a man’s temple

The green of widening veins
Drawing maps on my hands

Outside there is mist
Everywhere

In here a collection of silent travellers.

We know this road too well
But do we dance at our destination?

Life goes beyond the grasp of our expectation
And we are suddenly decades collected

And if storms can be weathered
There will be collections of memories
Experiences of treasure
And life, lit well by the lanterns of joy

All things come and go in circles
Everyone can be pulled together
For the heart is the most magnificent *****
From which all power emanates