Faded eagle dreams and faded jeans, combing grey hair, boots laced and a light weight camera,
the trails call, moving my spirit beyond crows, rejecting dark wings…I become the silence of trees, and wildflowers holding bees,
where light flickers through the canopy, I seek to know, as anyone could know, the Lord God,
like I did as a young man….
in a place that peace
calls home….
Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies
Seagulls hover, floating on the wind mostly white wings,
dipped in black
ignoring the shadows of the coming storm
I turn to My Love and her eyes are closed,
as she whispers a prayer
and I realize, perhaps comprehend
the peace of the waves,
and the healing
of a blue sky
yet remaining…
Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies
As he stood there in his mountain song, he remembered the prayers of the fathers, the voices of his mothers uplifted,
and he knew his strength was not of this world, it was his spirit, it was always his spirit that gave him strength……
he closed his eyes then, taking in visions of the never ending river, listening to the comfort….
of the wind.
Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies
When our bodies are at rest,
our minds and spirits build
a more meaningful peace,
deep within. And in that way,
we actually become
stronger.
Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies
Note: I’m on a day or so of rest. I’ll see you soon.
On the trail that day, in the wind, where the oak leaves whisper, shadows of wings covered him, from the sky…
yet he was never afraid, even with the distant sounds of singing, of chanting and drums, he noticed shadows shifting,
so he stopped with a poem nearing its creation. Sitting on a large rock with prayer beginning as a spring,
light flickered and when he opened his eyes he found…..
he was the river, after all.
Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies
The refreshing kiss of cooler air,
the dawn of crisp mornings
waiting for the sun,
beginning the season of surrender
where leaves let go of their green,
to receive the infusion
of a greater glory.
It won’t be long now.
Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies
There are times when the wind from the ocean is malicious, yet on this day he noticed the wind was carrying a particulate peace from the depths,
moving beyond the weight and heaviness below the surface, instead moving determined, up and over,
towards the shore, and through the pines trees, winnowing. Finally swirling around his face, around his being,
whispering words, that lifted his spirit in an unknown language, sort of like music. So in a deep breath, he let it all go…..
How is it that the wind seeks us, until we are encouraged?
Poetry and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies
I like many people, around the world, am beginning a day of rest. Some call it the Sabbath or Shabbat.
No, I wasn’t born Jewish but I really enjoy the concept. It’s liberating really….to have one day a week,
to put everything aside…..and just rest. Renewed, restored and very much alive.
I’ll see you in a day or so.
Peace.
Writing and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies
When I write of the dark now, the enfolding, the pouring in of midnight, I’m not referring to evil, the seeking to destroy, the choking of our humanity, with talons extended,
or even of the darkness of our anointed narcissist, screaming so sadly of his insanity, supported by the prayers of some of the faithful, often confused, and sometimes worse…
no, I write of that dark comfort, stillness enfolding into us, like twilight wrapping us, holding us,
a silence of the heart…where we sometimes go, where stars live….still clinging to the night, watching over us,
over the deepest parts of us….causing even our scars to bow down, hoping for release,
like when birds awaken, praying, fighting sleep, to greet the dawn. It’s OK to go quiet during the rebirth of wings,
instead of leaving our spirits shredded, left in ruins. We don’t have to accept ourselves wearing a reality of dark wings trembling.
We do know the way, don’t we?
Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies
The comforting dark of August’s forest made it easy to slip
through to the world unseen,
and I was spirit, as if in a dream,
not of false rainbows but of peace,
an amazing depth
I had never known before,
where silence takes us
beyond bravery
as light flickers
through the trees.
Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
Rivers Renewed 