Between the pines, where the rain is sometimes snow,
I find myself listening, as it falls
as the rain moves through the trees
a white flake here
and there
my spirit searching
quietly through the sky
and in the strange silence
of rain.
With my hood on, a prayer sent
having seen the beauty
deep within
the storm.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
It’s not that we pack away autumn,
tucked away for next year
but her fire burns deeper now,
into our memories.
Poetry and All Images © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
So many words spoken over us, at times unseen
as if they gently rested
on our shoulders, whispering
into our spirits, both
hawks and doves,
so that in our peace we can
pull down every particle of grey
and black smoke
drifting,
creeping in from our ruined history.
Until finally
there is enough glory
to write a poem,
pulled down
from the sky.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
And the angel said to her:
“Sister, you don’t need another strong-man with a club, designing
your mirror for you, telling you
what you need, you know better….
here hon
here’s – a handkerchief
to dry your eyes.”
“Do you remember that dream,
where I spoke to you?”
“You were 12 then – remember?
the dream of being queen?”
(they both smiled remembering,
as she wiped her eyes)
“Now hon, go and get that embrace
I told you about then….
the one that lasts
an eternity.”
“You will know hon, when it happens…..”
And when she awoke, the angel was gone, but she slipped out of bed, and quietly dressed. She carefully went out the door, leaving the strong-man with his club, by himself, sleeping.
And she never looked back again,
not ever.
Poetry © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
As the leaves fly, high up on the ridge, swirling
in late autumn, the bears within
our spirits, lose their hold,
claws releasing
as a oneness returns pulling us
back into peace,
with the smell pine trees
and the healing of the cold air.
We can walk even further now.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
Now you might wonder why do I use his own photos? Well, that’s easy, there are two reasons really. One, is that it’s much easier and faster!
I remember starting out blogging, and searching for hours for just the right picture, to go with a piece of fiction, or a poem. And I realized I could write a lot more, and have a lot more time for everything, if I used what I already had. I can also find my own photos easily.
And to be honest I’ve always loved photography. I have thousands of photos from different devices, though I’m not a professional. So, part of my walking hobby is to go into nature and photograph what I find.
I have also found that I can start with a photograph, and write a poem around it! So cool!
So, it works well for me. It is rare that I use a photo outside of my own library, but it simply means I couldn’t find a match for the poem.
And yes, it is true my photographs are copyrighted, so please don’t use them without my permission.
I wish you peace.
Writing and All Images © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
The ghosts of our lost tribes still roam our woods, especially
in a warm fog, preferring the silence of soft grey
over the noise of our cars
and the impurity of our arguments.
And in their spirits, they still chase
the deer, hunting
for peace,
carrying their wounds
unseen.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
Our mountains seem quieter now, the silence
of bare trees, fewer boots disturbing
the trails, and creatures of the forest
choosing to stay
indoors, preferring the burrows
of warm earth, covered
with layers of dry leaves.
As the hawk flies further away
searching for her food.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
A thin layer of ice on the corners of the window now,
as you gently move the curtain aside, she stirs
next to you under layers, lumps under her mother’s quilt
as you see only a hint of the sun, and you realize
there is joy in the mystery of another day,
a sparkle returns
to your eyes again, as you stretch
and your wings extend, covering
your Love, with a beautiful shadow
and you begin forming –
shaping the words
of a new poem, in the light
that is barely dawn.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
I’m grateful for the light living in our poems, infusing
our words revealing the hope of our spirits
through the strength and beauty,
and the glory of each one of us
pressing forward.
Thank you everyone, for sharing your light.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Poetry and All Images © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
Rivers Renewed 