Looking at my life,m I'll have the usual. The usual good health, loved ones, work and rest, and laughter, The usual tears and armchair reveries, The usual memories that make me smile, And even those that do not. There have been times when life did not serve me the usual, But those times lasted only long enough to awaken me to treasure them. Gratitude is stopping and saying, "I think I'll have the usual."

If you look at a gravestone, you will see a hyphen before the date one enters the world and when one leaves it. (Is it a hyphen or a dash? I, for one, would not want to dash through life). And that little straight line is a total lie. For the ark between birth and death is a squiggly line that loops, goes backward, Up and Down Stalls And so on, but it is anything but a straight line! If it is a straight line, then you haven't done much' And face your Maker with empty hands. F

In the Turkish language, spring is “ilk bahar,” which is “first spring And autumn is “son bahar” or  “last spring.” May aging be my second spring, When new things calmly bloom and flourish Even as the days grow shorter. But growing shorter means that the light is limited, And work must be accomplished within less time, The days are shorter The light gentler and more finite But oh, so more valuable.

The crispness of Fall Like the crunching of leaves under foot; Wood smoke lingering on the air; And the bite into a tart, crisp apple With a cool breeze on your cheek While a gentler sun looks down Is like the happy autumn of our lives.. Growing older, the sun seems gentler The breeze is a caress, not a chill And life has a wonderful new tart flavor And the time to savor it. The light is softer now Days are shorter But what beautiful days they are!

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Adults are just children "damaged in shipping." So, I suggest an experiment. Try and envision someone you intensely dislike as a small...

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Like Aladdin, I have a treasure cave That I can visit without the worry of forty thieves. In that cave are stored my memories, The smell...

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The garden was silent but for the voice of the birds They sang, gave love calls, and appeared to bicker and argue. They seemed to play...

A new book by J.F. Bierlein and Houda Zahid

I have a birthday approaching, which means another, YET ANOTHER trip around the sun. Am I now a frequent flyer?  Do I get additional...

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