Jiya Backup

Tried to hold it together so pot wouldn't crack maybe overindulged, maybe enabled. Wake up call, got to slow down, no lashing out, remember tortoise and hare: "Slow and steady wins the race."

Descending the steps of 366 Partridge, dandelion spores filled the air like snow flakes, but it was indeed spring. Down Myrtle, right onto Quail, then to Providence. Albany, a small town, young, old, swaying, lean, mean, all nodded "good day." and  Was a good day - mrytle wavering, quail cooing, Providence hovering. Time had come to close a chapter. Shepherded him best I could. Time to inhale myrtle, atune to quails, thank Providence once more for bountious blessings.

Spring whispers hello Unfurled indigo, Spring whispers hello  Forsythia's yellow. Spring whispers good day Magnolias of May, Spring whispers good day Dogwood by the bay.

Fierce, tender, wild and free, Here you are at sixty-three, Among the rose and peony, Here you are at sixty-three. Tiger eyes with raptured glee, Here you are at sixty-three, Majestic kindness, goodness, chi, Here you are at sixty-three.