The Christmas Hawk

She loved the way the cold air filled her feathers on Christmas Day. First through the blue skies,

then turning, banking and spinning around… twirling straight into a snow squall,

the mystical grey, high up on the ridge. There was so much joy this day!

A new day filled with hope, and life never ending, declared, openly.

All about the Anointed One, the star lighting the hearts of humans.

She continued to twirl, banking and praising God with her wings

as the snow came down heavily,

and the wind that never ends…..

and somewhere in that wind beyond the tallest oak trees,

she heard a choir singing…..

Merry Christmas!

Poetry and Image Copyright © revised 2020 rivers renewed

A True Story

This is not fiction, or even a poem. I fell today and I fell hard while walking in the park. I was on the ground for quite awhile. I’m in a lot of pain, even while typing this with my good arm. I will get to your messages eventually, and will only able to share previous work for a few days.

Thanks for reading.

Peace out.

Writing Copyright © 2020 rivers renewed

Loving the Smell of Leaves

Walking true to himself and to others,

he found himself in the forest yesterday.

Loving the smell of leaves, moving

beyond the tree bark convinced,

the wind was speaking another language,

perhaps Lakota or even Cheyenne.

And he was amazed

by the leaves

still hanging on.

Discovery.

Poetry and Image Copyright © 2020 ancient skies

From the Writer’s Den

As I sit at my desk I notice the leaves are still changing, into bright gold, even yellow, and especially red. This is such an amazing season.

And I’m so thankful to all of my readers! If you’ve known me for awhile you know that I love writing. I’ve been blogging for years. Did you know I have 2,814 posts here?

That’s alot of writing! For awhile I was posting twice a day. Did you know I used to write fiction?

One of my favorite series was “Colors of the Night Sky” The main female character had colors running through her, including purple all through her hair, pulsing.

Anyway, I have maxed out on this sight, meaning I have no storage left. I cannot load any new photos, and that’s no fun!

So I have some decisions to make. Do I upgrade or start a new blog that looks completely different?

Ironically I have been wanting to make some big changes here, including a new theme and look.

I’m at the place of say….. a person deciding to either renovate my current home, or move on to a new one.

I’ll keep you posted.

Thank you again for reading!

I wish you peace.

Writing and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies

Patience

I am practicing the virtue of patience today. Please bear with me as I work on the new technology of wordpress.

In particular I’m trying to get photos back into my posts where they belong. I’ll keep you posted…..get it? Posted. Did you know I had a sense of humor?

I don’t have alot of patience with technology though so I hope my phone doesn’t get accidentally broken…..with a hammer!

Writing and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies

The Silence of Trees

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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

Whispers of Lakota Song

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Perhaps it was the Lakota Song drifting over him, whispering in the middle of the night, when he was a child, a sound of singing,

blessing his dreams, from the tall grass…..that soul filling call, to touch the clouds, whispering in his ear, in his heart, the core of who he was.

He could always write the river, so maybe that’s why he was born loving the colors of our earth, with prayer feathers,

and wild horses running strong. It was poetry, after all.

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Note: I was born in the desert, not far from the Rocky Mountains.

We were too far south though, to hear the Lakota Song.

Into the Rain

20180930_123817I’m dusting off my leather bound journal, finding my favorite pen, and I’ve put together a small stack of poetry books,

on the kitchen table, including one called, Hope in the Morning……and later a walk into the rain, down by the lake,

if it’s not too cold. I love how rain drops fall, on the water singing their own special music.

Right now though it’s time for some cheesy eggs and toast, dipping in my tea bag into a steaming cup

making English Breakfast tea. I love these rainy mornings……

I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but been taking one day a week to recharge. I work alot

so I find it essential, and maybe we were made this way, but I didn’t pick a particular day, it just kind of happened.

So on late Friday afternoons until sometime on Saturday I’ll disappear, but only a little. I have preplanned a couple of posts.

Thank you so much for reading!

Peace.

      

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies.

Up on the Ridge

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When I went up on the ridge that day I had my raincoat on, the one with the hood,

and checked for my mask in the ziploc. Seeking my rock, my thinking rock, my prayer

and meditation rock, there was comfort when I found it and I sat down silently, even in the rain

I could sense the quiet of the forest. I closed my eyes and quieted my spirit…..realizing I didn’t need to find some new deep revelation,

or write a poem producing lightning on a page, some awe inspiring lines, one poem

out doing another, until the lines faded. That was all nonsense. I could just be who I was,

and write quietly of healing and nature, and peace. Praying on a rock up high, sitting in the rain.

     

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies