Ghost Writers

Winter Trees 004

When we write from the shell, the tent we live in

the clouds cease to hold their water, leaking cisterns

seldom inspire. But when we have been to the mountains

or riding the clouds on golden chariots, it is then

we can repair the scars, and walk on the heads

of snakes sneaking. Only when we are filled

can we offer a cup

of water

or give colors

to blot out

the grey.

         

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“When we love people, we give them hope.”

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19 thoughts on “Ghost Writers

  1. I love this! These lines especially spoke to me/left me admiring your way with words:

    “But when we have been to the mountains

    or riding the clouds on golden chariots, it is then

    we can repair the scars, and walk on the heads

    of snakes sneaking”

  2. Brilliantly put, took me a while to understand but thanks to your discussion with Ameena, I understood and appreciate the poem better. A beautiful way to describe the human nature Nico 🙂

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