Lifting Our Hearts

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Oceans will hold, and keep our prayers

as we walk along the shoreline

breathing in the peace

of rolling waves

within the rhythm 

more confident we are one,

or at least

more complete now,

and even in our weakest moments,

fully aware of who we are,

and that yes, we are able now

to trust the Divine

we walk taller……

knowing we are loved,

we lift our hearts

to the sky….

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, 2020, ancient skies

Welcome to Ancient Skies

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I have alot of new readers lately and many of you are international, so I just wanted to say, welcome to my blog!

I’m so glad you’re here! Unless you’re a bully. No bullies allowed!

I have more than 2,600 posts here, mostly I write poetry now. I do write some minifiction.

I love combining the ideas of nature, spirit, wholeness, healing, and how words can encourage us.

Hope is one of my biggest themes! Here is a small sample of the way I write:

Winter peace speaks to me,

within my spirit

in the silence

of the falling snow.

Welcome to Ancient Skies!

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Available Thunder

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Lacking the available thunder, we remain hopeful

surveying the evidence increasing,

we make our case,

giving our voice

to the truth.

(Regarding the Impeachment Trial)

One thing is for certain, and that is that one day the Grandchildren and the Great Grandchildren of some of today’s Republican Senators will ask,

“Why Grandpappy……why…..did you lie during the Impeachment Trial? “Why did you protect such a terrible leader….one who was only concerned about himself??

Why Grandpappy? There will be no good answer, only silence….there will be no excuse…..

What a terrible thing to do. What a horrible way to live.

      

Poetry, Writing, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

As the Wind Moves Over the Hawk’s Shoulder

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A solitary feather is lifted as the wind moves over the hawk’s shoulder.

Chipmunks are breathless as the mountains bask in the sunlight.

Yet the hawk turns his head, to listen to a murmuring sound close by.

A lone figure praying in the shadows, near the top of the mountain.

Peace is seldom easy, so the hawk kept silent, honoring his descendants, he turned away. 

Weren’t humans descended from birds of prey?

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, 2020, ancient skies   

Influenced by Native American stories of creation.