In the Coolness of Leaves

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With the windows to my soul fully open, I notice how poems and prayers take shape as I walk, in the deep forest,

seeing beyond a thinner veil, wrapped in birdsong, embraced by the coolness of leaves, and painted…

by sunlight streaming. All whispered into being…by the voice of God.

          

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Whispers of Lakota Song

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Perhaps it was the Lakota Song drifting over him, whispering in the middle of the night, when he was a child, a sound of singing,

blessing his dreams, from the tall grass…..that soul filling call, to touch the clouds, whispering in his ear, in his heart, the core of who he was.

He could always write the river, so maybe that’s why he was born loving the colors of our earth, with prayer feathers,

and wild horses running strong. It was poetry, after all.

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Note: I was born in the desert, not far from the Rocky Mountains.

We were too far south though, to hear the Lakota Song.

In These Woods

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What words can I shape, to tell that in these woods

I am made strong?

That hope runs deep here,

through the veins of oak

and pine, and maple trees,

through the earth

lives the permanence 

the assurance of oneness 

where there are no shadows

to be afraid of,

how can I ever express Lord God

that I am never alone,

covered in the warmth

of the blue sky.

      

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

In Those Canyons Within

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In those canyons within our lives where we search

for a safe place,

a quiet space,

to renew and begin again

we needn’t look far

to find the open arms

of nature and peace,

allowing

our rivers to run freely.

     

Note: I’m actually off today recharging. Following a one day out of seven concept. Until tomorrow. Peace.

Poetry, Writing and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies