As we drift into our snow dreams, God speaks in the whisper of the winter wind,
in the white mist of night covering
the waiting tree branches
outstretched,
with a certain peace descending,
our hearts awaken
in the morning,
encouraged
by the silence,
of beauty.
Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed
Note: It didn’t snow last night but I sure wish it had.
In the days when wolves were still the Elders, two of the forest creatures sought their advice. They were Hawk in the Sky and Songbird. Yes, they were birds but the two of them were so very different they could not understand the love they felt for each other.
Hawks you see are not friendly to other birds. Yet when the Elders met with them, their direction was very clear. An Elder female wolf spoke it best. “It is good and natural for you to be attracted to each other…..continue as you are. Be at peace and be committed to each other…..”
This mystical union produced a great number of children. Eventually and over time some of them became humans or close to it. And this is how the first humans were formed, running wild and free, some having wings and filled with the winds of heaven.
This was all along the Wind River region, the birthplace of all creatures. And by the way, most leaders in those days whether wolves, hawks, or humans were…..female.
The Elders could see very early on that females were usually smarter, and much less prone to violence.
And the hawk on my shoulder tells me this natural order will soon be restored. Men having ruined the Earth, and in their violence….destroying each other.
Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed
Emma held the light of dawn within the palm of her hand. Turning it, this way and another she separated the ball into two, allowing it to infuse both her hands and down into her arms. She believed in God, but where was He when we were hurting?
She was more spirit now, than bones and skin, and yet she was hurting all over. The light continued its warmth through her and questions faded, while grey pain morphed into blue. A blue from the sky?
It was only beginning, this journey. The blood of Palermo would fade, and she realized she was being made new every morning. Wings began to thicken, becoming more than barely visible membranes. It was impossible to tell who she would be later this year.
She sighed looking out over the foothills, just north of Milan….searching, yet at peace.
Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed
The strength and healing of spring, in the power
of a flower,
in the uplifting
of our wings
that once were broken,
wholeness now,
in all
that God has made.
Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed
It was the same winter that courage from the sky was concealed, even sealed with a double layer of grey,
until blue finally broke through and I was convinced once again, of the power of my own breath, as evidence
so I raised one wing and then the other, until I was lifted
bowing my heart and my head to the One
who made everything, contained
under all the heavens.
Hawks breath always runs true.
Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed
I was on a long walk, on the right trail, at least I could hear the hawk wings flying low, coming from left to right until she landed nearby.
And I heard the interpretation of her language, sharing a message from Our Creator….”it’s true”, she assured me again. “Everything, will be alright….”
Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed
On that day, when he most needed it
coming from within the depths,
a voice…
from the most ancient of days,
saying…
“Peace,
be still.”
Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
Note: Based on the Book of Psalms.
Oceans will hold, and keep our prayers
as we walk along the shoreline
breathing in the peace
of rolling waves
within the rhythm
more confident we are one,
or at least
more complete now,
and even in our weakest moments,
fully aware of who we are,
and that yes, we are able now
to trust the Divine
we walk taller……
knowing we are loved,
we lift our hearts
to the sky….
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, 2020, ancient skies
I wonder, does God get angry within the thunder? Or is it simply a matter of heat vs. cool air?
Last night I watched the rain from our porch, as if waiting for a revelation,
but it was only a downpour, pounding on the streets, driven by wind.
If God spoke……I didn’t hear Him…….at least, not this time.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
Lush green, with colors bursting in the sun
pink, purple
and sometimes blue,
all declaring My love
for you.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
Rivers Renewed 