poetry, fiction, nature, culture, compassion, love
In our wounds disguised
we do not seek who we once were,
instead moving forward
we find ourselves
smoothing jagged lines
rejecting the temptation of bitterness
determined
we are the rivers creating
a new vision, of who we should be
in spite of the darkness.
We fight on.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
With the intensity of your light, we enfolded into each other
sitting on the park bench.
We sat there remembering our journey
as you placed your hand in mine,
I gently caressed your face
you tucked your head into my shoulder,
whispering
your prayer for me.
Do you remember the azaleas?
Note: This is about a couple encouraging each other, through chronic illness.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
As victory courses through our veins, yet hidden within
we can grasp a few lines,
discovering our light
and even a piece of hope
realizing
scars really can lose their power,
loosing control, or any influence at all
over who we are now.
Each of us river,
in our own right.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
I have a number of new readers now, and wanted to say thank you to this special group of people…..so thank you!
You really have made my blogging experience wonderful. I’m so glad you’re here!
And to my long time readers you’re so amazing, thank you once again!
Peace.
More poetry coming soon!
Writing and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
In the royalty of purple, in her presence really
old wounds are silenced
while memories
of scars fade away.
Healing through color
and light.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
Within the expanse of our time and the light we’ve been given,
we hold in our hearts
the creating of new life.
Each day we can choose, to make a positive impact
on each other.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
Having rejected the blood of kings, and thrones, and swords called devils, he had always embraced the wind.
So he stood there, on top of the mountain with his arms outstretched and a mist in his eyes, remembering
the light he’d been given. And that his heart really could soar, in spite of the violence….. of our world.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
