Poet’s Muse

Shape shifting into that wolf he used to be, or even the lion made of fire and stone, produced nothing more than comical lyrics and dreams of hunting with dull knives instead of that line, that phrase he had called forth, the one on the tip of his tongue, he could almost taste it….

he refused the temptation to allow despair to take him down, to allow the lancing of his pain, the calling out of anguish using poetry as way of defeating. No.

His muse must live…..but he refused to share her nakedness, her bare soul, the broken body from chemo and cancer, the legs he adored now whittled down, he would not go there, if he did he would not live there. Crushed.

God spoke and he listened. The warm embrace of nature began with a soft sun…..melting the ice. And rain, one of those beautiful life giving rains. His arm. A pen on paper.

And life began again, somehow. Spring.

Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Note: This is fiction. My wife is taking chemo but we are ok.

The Sky Began Breaking

The sky began breaking as a few persistent snowflakes descended mixed with rain. I carved another arrow, while My Love shifted slightly in her buckskin, placing more wood on the fire crackling.

The horses next to our lodge, snorted their steam, anxious to return to the valley. I knew it would not be long until our band of brothers tracked our food in the snow. Then bows pulled in breathless silence….

I woke up with a start, sitting up realizing it was all just a dream……with the one I love breathing quietly next to me. A picture of beauty and peace.

Yet I could have sworn I heard……the thunder of hoofbeats in the distance…..

Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Note: This is fiction, and poetry.

The Gift of Tigers

She always loved how he carried the Gift of Tigers…his roar

against the night, permeating

her being down to the bone,

his courage running through her veins,

never dominating.

And he loved the strength of her stride,

the ability to tread on serpents,

her supernatural smile,

how so often she could walk

through the fire of chemo and cancer,

while casting fear off both of them,

with the heart of a lion.

Gifted, both of them…

in each other’s love.

Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies

Modern Love

As they stood in line waiting to get in, each person stood 6 feet apart, looking at their phones, or their grocery list.

He heard a noise behind him, and a young woman was bending over, picking up her keys. When she stood up, he wanted to shout from the rooftops, “You look amazing!”

but instead he went for softer touch with, “I love your mask!” It worked. Her eyes smiled as she relaxed. And it was a beautiful mask, white with swirls of green,

black, and just a hint of blue. It was like a work of art really. He didn’t know it, but she had been staring at him, and that’s why she had dropped her keys.

There was something about a guy’s shoulder muscles that always threw her for a loop. They started talking about cooking and food.

She loved the fact that he liked Thai food. They started letting other people go around them and they exchanged names and phone numbers.

As they parted he had forgotten what he needed to shop for and she headed to the nearest restroom so she could take off her mask and breathe again! She also splashed some cold water on her face.

Several days later they were zooming and started really getting to know each other. She was thinking, “Finally a guy who cares about more than just my body….”

And he was thinking, She’s so gorgeous!” And they both looked forward to that day, when they could touch……and actually hold each other.

Writing and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies

We Hold On Anyway

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Even within our worst isolation, we rage

against the lonely grey

reaching, searching,

clawing at the edges

somehow finding the strength

to pray, or at least to look over our shoulder

sensing a speck of light,

the kind we used to know,

so that we hold on anyway,

building another layer

of hope.

      

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies