Happy Thanksgiving

In our heart of hearts we long for home,

and a sense of belonging

that speaks to us.

Over the next few days, millions of people around my part of the world, will be traveling with the longing for home within them.

The gathering together, the drawing in.

Life is not always about the battles, and scars. It’s also very much about the healing, the joy, the forgiveness, the love and yes belonging.

My wife and I have much to be thankful for.

From our home to yours,

Happy Thanksgiving! 

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Note: The photo above is not from our home, but a museum. I’ll be off for the next few days but have a few posts planned. Peace.

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The Night of Dragons

Fur coated dragons drifted into the kingdom during the night, along with a fresh coat of ice.

Snow swirled from time to time, giving a false sense of innocence to the difusion of light.

Yet the dragons only carried a holy fire, so the people were not afraid when the fires broke out.

They had waited so very long for deliverance, from leaders gone rogue, only the guilty were burned.

The people were sober, it was not a time to rejoice, but they knew what the dragons had done, was right.

And the fur coated dragons returned to their kingdom, in the cover of night. The ice remained, yet silent.

Snow swirled from time to time, giving a false sense of innocence.

     

Writing and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Snow Clouds

As I watch from my window, snow clouds drift in over the mountains, and I think of the ridge filled with pine trees,

and the boulder where I sat and prayed last summer, and that time when she still had cancer, and we held hands looking over the valley.

And I know now, it’s always about looking forward, refusing the scars or being controlled by them.

It’s all about hope and peace falling over us, like snow gently falling from snow clouds…….over the top of the mountain.

        

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Autumn’s Surrender

In the sacred song of autumn’s surrender

in the gentleness of leaves floating

drifting in the wind,

our poems turn upward

into the blue light

and the fury of snow.

        

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Gone Astray

It seems that conservatives in the House and Senate have gone far astray, much like a person of faith walking away,

lost in the wilderness, or denying there is any truth anymore, spinning Russian fables, smearing our heroes……to protect…….the idol, because he’s conservative.

 

Note: It’s not that progressives are sinless but here, in the Impeachment hearings, there is a clear presentation…….of truth.

Writing and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

The Sense of Quiet

Somehow in the snow, there’s a flow within us, as if the silence covers over the noise of this world,

releasing our inner person to finally feel our mystical bond with the created Earth, with the spirit we’ve all been given.

In the quietness, actually snow does make a sound, if you listen very carefully,

but the sense of quiet holds a unique peace like nothing else, that touches us deeply. Oneness.

Perhaps that is the most amazing thing about snow……

we truly sense the wholeness of who we are, and how…..we fit into this world.

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Note: We’ve had very little snow but it has been grey for weeks, and cold.

Winter Wings

Winter wings usually appear when we are filled with poetry,

walking through the pine trees

in the snow.

But sometimes

oak trees work just as well.

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

The Unseen Between Us

In the middle of the night is when that unseen energy pulls us closer. I love when you reach out for me in your sleep My Love,

you not only declare your love for me, but you check on the universe, believing it will remain aligned, still on course.

In reaching I take your hand. I’m here, I will always be here, the night does not dim the unseen between us….

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

As Autumn Fades

As autumn fades, we remember

special meals,

the warmth of smiles,

passing the mashed potatoes 

and at sunset – blankets,

and popcorn on the couch

with a good movie.

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Acorns

In the grey dawn, in this time of in between,

in the silent barreness

of our woods underground 

bumble bees draw close,

and chipmunks remain silent,

praying for a blanket

of snow, and to remember

where their acorns

lay hidden.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies