In the Wild Streams

Will our children enjoy the depths of the wild streams when the end of all things is completed? Yes, as the ravens guard the river flow, and as wild geese fly over.

Having been washed by the great trouble we can see now, when our tribulation will end. As cities descend into ruins, the Earth will be healed, and cover over what used to be.

And we will not only bathe in the wild streams, but a new rotation will bring a cooling, and plants will no longer be burned. Our future generations of survivors will feel safe, within their deliverance.

Note: From the Apocalyptic Journal

    

Writing and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Advertisements

Winter Still Speaks

It was in the winter when I first began walking,

seeking the journey of a quiet spirit,

the healing of silence in the woods,

the wholeness of a snowfall

in the purity of cold air.

And still today

the wisdom of a young man’s heart

can defend, provide a light

for this old guy to follow.

Winter still speaks.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Ghosts Will Reappear

Within the deep fog of the final days, ghosts will reappear with the smell of buckskin

and burning wood in the air, showing us how to make lodges, and the sacred art

of bow making, giving us the wisdom of medicine, and the harmony

of all things will flow in our veins once again,

so that the deep fog will no longer

need to hide us, anymore.

                                                                                                       

Note: This is part of the Apocalyptic Journal.

   

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

The Breath of the Forest

I sometimes forget to walk within my healing,

boundaries not withstanding 

often preferring

the purity of winter,

the breath of the forest,

and hawk wings balancing

on my shoulders.

Scars?

What scars?

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Wing Span

Wing tip to wing tip our wings covering the ones we love,

shielding the vulnerable from the smoke and the ruins,

our shadows still riding the wind, as we refuse

to hide behind our white picket fences,

taking to the air we know better now.

It was never about protecting ourselves,

but the victory was always in the giving,

in the prospering

of all the people.

Expand, and take in.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

 

 

 

 

 

Our Place Within the Sky

In the splendor of the Earth, and all that was made, within brown and white tones

of hawk feathers, we find ourselves in awe really

of creation, both its beauty and strength, and we wonder

of the power of wings, the sharpness of the eyes

the shape of talons, curious

of where we belong,

and our place within the sky.

 

Poetry  © Copyright 2019, ancient skies, image from Audubon

In Every New Beginning

In every new beginning there is always the hope of being filled

with brighter rays of sunlight,

as we reach out

with our hearts 

because we believe in love

even when our glimpse is yet distant,

we expect that we really can overcome

every obstacle,

conquer every fear

through finding, living in

the end of the horizon.

Looking back we can see,

the journey was truly

the victory

after all.

Have a wonderful, creative, dreams fulfilled 2019!

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies