Beyond the Waves Driven by the Wind

Within our oceans, beyond the waves driven by the wind

there is always another story, waiting to break

into our lives, or another poem,

to sink deeply

into our hearts,

taking us far,

up and over the pain

into the victory

of the horizon.

So write anyway.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

 

Sweet Dreams

In our dreams, our minds begin their journeys,

bringing us to castles, and hawks

and light drifting, flickering

down empty corridors of stone

and perhaps a lover’s breath

on our cheek

to hide us from the dragon’s wrath,

as our spirits learn to rest

we breathe easier.

Sweet dreams.

   

Poetry © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

 

Oceans on Fire

Burning skies, oceans on fire, pulling us

further in, love’s intensity

inspiring

both lovers and prophets

to dive in,

and be filled.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

Riding Along the Edge

There are times, when we are filled with faith, that we ride along the edge

of revelation, preferring the jagged edges of our own mountains

rather than the comfort of frozen temples.

So we pick ourselves up, scraping off the mud,

embracing the lines of cliffs rising, realizing

it is dangerous to trust anyone

we can’t see.

        

Poetry © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

Rivers, Wings, and Locomotives

Blogging is a locomotive. There is tremendous power in the force of our blogging engines, and in our steam. But sometimes we can be caught up, in that strength, that speed, and it needs to slow down. For me, I was beginning to lose a sense of who I was.

Whatever it is I’m doing now, with the balance of life and blogging, it’s working for me. To be honest I have no idea how I did so much in the past. I’m not a professional blogger.

And yet, writing is a river. We can let it flow through us, and in us. For me it is something I was meant to do, I guess you could say in a sense it is a type of calling, not in a weird way, but I just know it.

But the most important part of us is our wings. We soar so beautifully because we were meant to. You don’t think you soar? Yep, you do – we each have a spirit.

So my locomotive is still there, and running smoothly at the correct speed. While I thank God for the river He has given me, I can sense my wingspan expanding. I can now walk with joy, and confidence.

Thank you for being on this journey with me. Peace.

     

Poetry and All Images © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

The Bravery of the Present and the Hope Not Far

Our journeys long for the open sea, the bravery

of the present, and the hope not far. I learned to capture

the waves with my spirit, and yet my morose let go

when I decided fear was nothing more,

than a waste of time.

       

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

Discovery

The lonely are the ones that do most of the seeking, for a sense of belonging,

a people, a place to belong to, always just out of reach, but through

their scared journey, they find the song of the divine,

and an innocence of heart,

a holy place called

discovery.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies