Pages from My Journal

And I felt those words as I turned the pages,

the same as when I stood on the mountain

gazing,

what flows in my spirit

like the wind messing up my hair?

I do think if I was Native American

or First Nations my name would be,

Standing on the Mountain,

and I would be there often

shaping words

into poems and prayers.

      

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies.