Meander 1 - Poem - Thirty years ago I watched a dying friend face death with courage. Then recently, I watched another friend do the same. This poem written all those years ago belongs to both these courageous woman.
She walks with death and knows
But turns her face to live and passes
To those around her person a glow,
A charm, a reaching for tomorrow.
The trees in autumn know they are dying, too.
They reach with colored brightness glowing hues
In beauty across the hills- against the sky.
They shoutof life today and not tomorrow.
She walkes with death and yet
She exhales life and peacefulness.
She extends her hands and boosts her friends
Over obstacles that line the way.
The blaze of autumn trees tell
Of dying with colors and with flair.
Their colors extend a welcoming of ends
And point to bebinnings right with flame.
She walks with death and so
She teaches me how to live each day.
She burns in my life a dying flame.
That glows as beauty - autumn tree.
Meander 2 - That lost hour of sleep. I'm usually up between sixthirty and seven greeting the day brightly. Just the other day I had to rise at six to take someone to a doctor's appointment. All day that lost half hour haunted me, sending me into little losses of consciousness and making my day rather disjointed. I didn't write because off I would not and the pen skittered across the page. Neither did I type more than a few words since they were followed with something like thissssssssssss. So the lost hour of sleep left me with a lost hour.
Meander 3. Writing is going slower than I'd like and better than I feared. Wizards is approaching the last of the rewritten drafts and then all needed to be done will be the fixing of sentences. The adding of words or a sentence to clarify what's on the page. Then it will be time to really look at the book I want to finish for my friend. Hopefully the other two will have more ideas than I do right now. Then I can concentrate on another of the seven books I need to finish for reissuing.