The sacred mist rolled in and captured
the shoreline as if to say we are here now,
more real, more tangible than you or I thought
not caring for what we think
yet essentially tied to the core
remembering the first people, holding
on, until the permanent time
when the fire we have started
comes to an end, burning itself out,
as the mist takes over.
It is the end, and yet the beginning.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2015, ancient skies
Peace and blessings to everyone.
“When we love people, we give them hope.”