Free Spirit

As I truly am

The stars call out my name ~
In alien tongues I don’t
Know how I understand ~
The sickle moon smiles
Down on me ~ and
Dawn is hours away ~

Accountable to no man
While I sleep ~
These hours are mine ~
The only time I can
Be truly who I am ~
A work in progress still ~

Clay-footed when my
Soul desires to soar ~
Yet I press on ~
My progress may at times
Seem nonexistent ~
But I keep the flame of
Faith alive ~ through
Every trial that besets me ~

For I have learned
While on my journey ~
That God ~
And the Universe ~
Help those
Who help themselves ~

Portland Pearl of the Pacific Northwest

Portland's Man In Pioneer Square With Umbrella

There’s something autumnal

In the air today, some scent

That wasn’t there yesterday.

The trees are beginning to

Show their true colors, as

Children return to their

Classrooms, clad in their

Own bright, fall hues.

It grew light later today, and

Will grow dark earlier tonight.

The sun will go wherever the

Sun goes in these autumn and

Winter months, taking with it

The warmth and the long dry

Days, and the rainy season

Will get under way. Umbrellas

Will open like flowers to the rain

And all true Portlanders will come

Home, like so many birds, to

Their evening roosts again.