When poets climb another mountain in order to set themselves free,
to be moved, to be filled with the words again,
there is always the danger we will not see
the meaning of the streams, the beauty,
the wonder of what was made.
May we seek to be refreshed
with a strong spirit of peace
before we start giving
the words away.
The words are only a gift, from the treasures
we’ve been given.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies