As I walked into the woods today, the light was already dancing,
filtered through the leaves, pulling me,
pulling my spirit further
into the healing, I stood
for a long time at rest, confident,
grateful even, that I was made,
part of the earth now,
part of the light dancing.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
Our prayers will be a little softer now, our spirits
letting go of the heat of summer
we turn instead, breathing the incense
of leaves, and the earth discovering
her own passion.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
I was descending when the wind filled my wings,
eyes closed, sensing my spirit
going further than I had ever known
prayer shifting, balance
returning, but I knew the river
was never ending,
it was then my eyes filled
with tears.
I let go
of my talons.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
I love the wind whipping, rippling the over the water
as I walk in the early autumn, searching the mountains,
the sky covering us, with clouds rolling over,
I sigh and pray, knowing the peace
even more now, and
being filled beyond
any language,
with the wind whipping, rippling
over the water.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
When poems become our prayers, there’s no need to fear the darkness
or the fury of the divine, no tyrants club
will stifle our spirits, as we build
bridges to the other side.
We know light
is expanded.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
This is Beautiful! Please see the original post, translated by Mary Tang.
We are so divided, what do we tell our children, our grandchildren, when they are old enough? I think I will tell them this:
I would rather sit at an outdoor café, sipping some wine, or a bottle of water, talking and disagreeing I’m sure, maybe even arguing quietly, with a group of leftists.
We could break bread together, while slicing some cheese, or snacking on some peanuts and granola in a bowl.
I would rather have these discussions at the café, sipping and snacking, than to hear the horrific sounds of black boots marching with shouts of hate, looking for a war behind every tree. Yes, I really would.
At least that’s my opinion.
Writing and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
As the leaves finally surrender to the cooler air,
our hearts are lifted, our spirits soar
beholding their glory
reaching into the blue
we are infused
with their colors
so glorious.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
Only a thin veil remains My Love, as the sun brings warmth
in the morning, a curtain of light covering over
our summer dreams, only to reveal
yellow roses in the garden,
where you and I are refreshed
by the crisp, cool air.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
Our light filled prayers have never been a burden,
never an amulet speaking
or religious proclamation,
more of a poem really, lifting
our heart cries, simply words
from our essence ascending,
being held so gently
floating, dancing
in the clouds.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
