As the winter storm roared through the trees, thunder rumbled rolling
through the valley, having been sent down the side of the mountain,
and I realized our spirits are so fragile, we often sense
the loneliness of the wind, with snowflakes swirling,
and yet inside our cocoons, we acknowledge the safety
and that God was never angry, even though
He probably does live in the wind
coming down
from the mountains.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
I was seventeen when I first started wandering,
walking in the woods my spirit
calling me to the silence
a journey discovering
the peace within,
and yes
it was snowing then.
Beginnings.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
Within our limited frames we are so much more than just bones carrying our brains,
an inner life of traveling through, of breathing in and embracing spirit,
the true person not seen.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
The angels know that slavery comes from the hearts evil men, not really from our southern border, and that drugs are shipped sneaking through our ports of entry, stamped with approval.
I wonder if heaven weeps over the poor….needing jobs, needing some food….needing to escape violence….
I sure hope so.
“El Paso has been one of the safest cities for the past 20 years.”
Beto O’Rourke, resident of Texas
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
She squinted through the snowfall, her determination burning once again, in spite of the howling wind.
She had followed the wings of the hawk, and now….was that a cave? They had been led here for sure….”C’mon my love!” she yelled to him, who struggled with each step.
He had saved her so many times, now it was her turn. They knew this was not the time for dying.
Once they collapsed inside the cave, they found it warm and safe. They had survived the ruination, the last of all wars, led by the spirit hawk, surely it was a sign.
The Earth would bring healing. There would be a spring, and hope…..was about to be born.
From the Apocalyptic Journal.
Writing and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
In waves of cloudflow, birdsong travels
to a future time, sending notes
and prayers
to our coming spring.
And Earth begins her warming.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
In the dance for his people, feet pounding twirling, left shoulder down, feathers jerking, he was the heartbeat of the earth,
head tilted to the left then the right, leaning in, spinning with blurred vision
he became red rocks, he became canyons of rivers raging, with ancient memories,
with power in his feathers, he remembered when they protected
the women and children, from dog faced soldiers hiding spears,
until the sun broke through the great trouble.
He was more than the dance,
he had blended
with the spirit of his people.
Poetry © Copyright 2019, ancient skies, image of Apache dancer from indiancountrytodaymedianetwork
People don’t read the paper on Sunday anymore, do they? We I guess if it’s online. Today I’m taking it easy. After church, and lunch with the family, I’m spending some time reading.
Currently I’m reading Jan Karon’s book, Somewhere Safe with Somebody Good. I’ve had this book on my shelf for years and even started it once, but it’s been like rediscovering buried treasure! I think I’ve now read the whole Mitford series. I can’t wait to see what else I have on my shelf!
I’m also writing today. When I go back and read what I wrote months ago, I can’t believe how many changes are needed!
Tonight there’ll be some buttered popcorn, and a movie with my sweetheart. I’ve found the best movies are usually watched at home.
Before then, it’s always good to have a nap! Isn’t that what Sundays are made for?
I don’t have Facebook or Twitter so thanks for listening to me ramble.
So how are you spending your day?
Writing and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
When we are filled with love, poured into,
we will have a stronger walk
a greater acceptance of others
and a brighter sun
to carry
within our lives.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
If we walk as light in this world the windows of heaven
will open, and we will be
stunned
with the beauty
we can create,
going far beyond
whatever fears
we once had.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
Rivers Renewed 