of all my life lessons, now ready to reap
I ask my chorus to pick a beat
to help harvest my unique store
all tucked-away inside my front door
With tender hands I raise my baton
to dogma, drama and dreams beyond
lands yet traveled, seas yet seen
people I love, the person I’ve been
Now more in tune, I ready my scythe
of feelings, knowledge, wisdom and light
to cut ripe insights, lessons and schemes
the rest to lifes’ compost pile I heave
As Winter wanders past nine full moons
I prepare to savor my lesson runes
to learn, laugh, grow and sing
my simple songs each season brings.
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