Seagulls Hover, Floating on the Wind

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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

The Dark Comfort

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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

I Was Even Able to Whisper

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The darkness and coolness of the deep forest called to me today,

with streams and a river unending, my spirit went quiet,

listening to the bees and one stubborn woodpecker.

A tree stump became my chair as I was surrounded by the comfort of leaves….

I was even able to whisper,

a simple prayer.

      

Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies

Writer’s Wings

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Even when I’m folding my wings I’m very aware

of the wordflow waiting…

phrases seeking

another river,

another poem

from within my heart.

      

I’m grieving like many of you over the deadly racism in the United States.

Do we have a right to criticize other nations? It’s a sin really from our very beginning.

And I also grieve for how the far-right is ripping us apart. Caring more for their assault rifles than they do for people.

Closer to home my wife needs further treatments for cancer. The last round was not enough.

There will be more aggressive, more invasive treatments and that means more horrible side effects.

And we had a cousin die recently…..from cancer. This was the cousin that had the big family gatherings every year…

for Thanksgiving and Christmas. We’ve eaten at their home many times. He was in his forties, married with children.

I’ve shared these things because I’ve had the wind knocked out of me like I wrote in yesterday’s poem.

No, I don’t feel a need to stop blogging. I still have plenty of wordflow…….somewhere, but I’m grieving.

I just need some restoration, with my wings folded.

     

Poetry, Writing and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Seeking that Place

20160418_122232Bluejays sang their most sacred songs in the highest branches of the tallest trees,

while the blue sky shifted and white clouds followed that rugged trail,

he ascended, heart full of burdens seeking that place, that place where God lived, or least

it seemed that way, to the top… on the largest of rocks, where everything could be seen, 

that special place of a calmness where violence was always rejected, and light….could be tangibly felt.

     

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies