A Stream Flowing Over

When my mind is still, my heart can listen, a silent warfare against the noise, the disturbance of a distant wind.

I will never understand the whirlwind, but in the forest there is shelter, a wholeness waiting,

saying, “Here is the way”. A softer tone, a stream flowing over,

and sending me into the far away,

and back again, at the same time,

drifting, and following the light

through the trees,

allowing my heart to listen.

When I am still, I am alive.

Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Wisdom from the Doe

He was there when the fog slowly lifted. And the doe, in her boldness walked by and looked at him from under the shade of the oak trees. She was unafraid yet watchful, knowing full well this was her home and he was intruding.

He normally came here to write, yet on this day he needed the mountains to quiet his heart. “Sit down”, the doe said, “Let the peace wash over you, only then should you start with your notebook.” She was bold but it needed to be said.

He did sit down. In fact, he did exactly as the doe said. It was at least an hour before he reached for his pad of paper.

He smiled, having his heart song, once again….

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

The Survivors IV – Guns and Sex

From the Apocalyptic Journal – 83 years from now.

In the foothills before the mountains, the earthen lodge wasn’t even visible. Even the cooking fire could be mistaken for mist from the stream, flowing into the river. In the lodge baby Jay was sleeping.

“Ok, the shotgun is ready!” Why was he yelling? All he had done was cleaned it, now wiping it down with an oily rag. What was it about men and guns? Ridiculous. He didn’t realize it, but Brie was thinking the same thing.

They sat outside, across from each other in the morning sun, today was weapons cleaning and inventory day. He reached for a .38 caliber revolver to clean it, the kind the police used in the old days. He loved the way the chamber spun.

“Grey…” She had taken to shortening his new name and he loved that…. especially when she said it softly, like now. He looked up, putting down the .38. “Can I ask you a personal question?” Uh oh, he thought. This sounded serious. He nodded and she asked, “Why haven’t you made a move on me?”

He looked perplexed, “Made a what??” “Made a move on me….you know….S.E.X.” Did she really need to spell it out? It got worse because she continued with, “When you first saw me, isn’t that what you thought about?”

He looked at her silently, which for her was excruciating. She waited.

“No, not at all”, he said flatly.

“What then?” she asked. He shifted and recrossed his legs. “I was thinking, thank God for a human being that was alive and well!” Tears welled up in his eyes. “And I was thinking, thank God there is someone I can talk to and not go insane. It took me 4 months to get out to this wilderness and I hadn’t seen anyone!”

Ok note to self she thought, this guy has a heart, not like the slime bags she had known. A few tears did make it down his cheeks, but he wiped them away quickly.

That night was the first night they slept next to each other. Nothing happened, but they both felt a need….just to be close.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

The Survivors II – Bluejay

From the Apocalyptic Journal – 83 years from now

Wolves howling in the middle of the night could be heard through the thick walls of earth, wood and more earth. The smell of lavender smoke permeated the air of the lodge now, attempting to overtake the odors of blood and sweat. He never knew a woman could sweat like that.

It had been a horrible night of pain, and yet baby Jay was here now, Bluejay was her full name. “That’s beautiful…” he whispered, when Brie had told him. He had never seen Brie with a more contented, peaceful look on her face holding her daughter, wrapped up and warm. Brie was a tough woman, but he liked this softer side of her.

He had been right there through it all, and was beginning to clean up. She protested, “I’m so sorry….I’m too weak to…. He told her to rest. “I got this.” And he meant it. She took hold of his arm saying, “You did good tonight, thank you….” He simply nodded.

In the morning he went out to dedicate the afterbirth as instructed. It was Brie’s tradition, a tradition of her people, to thank the earth. He walked outside noticing the dew in the air. Picking a strong looking aspen tree, he mumbled what he thought may have been a prayer he heard once, a long time ago.

He stopped. What was a prayer anyway? Something was in his heart, so he just poured that out instead, silently. At the end he crossed himself, it was all he knew really.

The wind took hold of his hair, and a sense of peace enveloped him. He thought the hills seemed more alive today. Did he dare allow himself to feel joy? He took a deep breath and let go. Brie was right…..everything would be healed eventually, and the animals would return.

Suddenly, a smile of conformation began to spread over his face, when he saw a herd of elk not far away….

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Note: This is a special Thursday post due to your requests! So cool.