Whispering into the Woods

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When I whispered into the woods today,

into the peace,

into the quiet waiting,

poems escaped

and prayers took shape lifting themselves

far beyond the tallest trees,

and I realized I was filtering

through the sunlight and the shade.

We need both really

to understand

our own

heart language.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Whirlwinds

Grey Sky

As we search for a poem, bringing shape to our whirlwinds,

our ghosting words,

refining spinning

in a furnace tested by fire

becoming word art, work of art

lines launched

beyond the rubble 

until we finally see the vision

and then,

we write it all down.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, 2019, ancient skies

Note: Based on an earlier work.