When the Ice Age melted, the Garden began to shine
but what do we do when our source is frozen?
when there is no sky, and all we can see
is ice. Do we fold our wings and wait until spring?
Do we build a wall and call it our home? No.
Even an eagle knows, a simple song can lift us,
perhaps we should sing to the mountains or
the sun, or sing to one another, like the first people,
like they still sometimes do, in Africa or Costa Rica
our hearts can soar in a song,
melting the Ice Age, carrying us
back to the Garden. Lift your wings,
stretch your voice, and be free.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2015, ancient skies
Peace and blessings to everyone.
“When we love people, we give them hope.”