Breathe Deeply


And in my dream I was drawn to the surface of the ocean, as if coming alive again,

or hearing for the first time, with My Love whispering, “Breathe deeply” and she said….

“you will find your significance, the freedom of your spirit….if you will only open…”

It was then my lungs filled, taking in….the purest of air.


Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies

Journey Celestial


When we walk down that path…..our journey celestial

a temple unseen awaits in our spirits

while white clouds drift over,

wisdom rides on light rays through shadows,

flickering in our minds

reminding us of our own humanity,

we take another step, accepting.

Guided by hawk wings,

or at least by their shadows,

flying over our shoulder……

we are encouraged

with the burden lighter,

our steps become quicker

as we embrace each path……

of our journey celestial.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies 

The Christmas Hawk


She loved the way the cold air filled her feathers on Christmas Day. First through the blue skies,

and then as she turned, and banked and even spun around twirling straight into a snow squall,

high up on the ridge. There was so much joy this day! A new day filled with hope, and life never ending, declared……openly.

it was all about the Anointed One, the star lighting the hearts of humans. She continued to twirl, banking and turning,

praising God with her wings as the snow came down heavily with the wind that never ends……

and somewhere in that wind beyond the tallest oak trees……she heard a choir singing…….

Merry Christmas everyone!

If you have a different faith I’m so glad you’re here. Peace and wonderful blessings to you as well!

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Slaying Dragons


What would an angel say if she visited you in the middle of the night? Would she dry your eyes, and wipe your tears?

Nah, she would probably say, “What, the hell are you so afraid of? It’s time to get your boots on, and don’t forget your shield.”

“Pick up that sword you used to carry so well. You need to get your fight on hon, so let’s go!”

“You and I have some dragons to slay……”


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, 2019, ancient skies

The Story of Joseph and that Special Night

A sky full of starsHe hated the smell of the donkey, and what made it worse was the animal’s hair got over everything. He couldn’t even embrace her without it getting on his clothing too.

It was on the special night when the young couple made their way to Bethlehem. “Ohhhh!” She let out another cry of pain. “Dear God!” He said out loud, “Help us to get there, before the baby arrives!”

He was so occupied, so worried, that he never saw the Bright Star above them as they traveled that night. Miriam knew though. Smiling, she said nothing.

He said a quick prayer from the liturgy too, “Baruch atah Adonai, Eluhenu Melech ha Olam.” (Blessed are you Lord our God, King of the Universe.) If they could just make it to the Inn at Bethlehem, he knew it would be alright.

It was not only dark now, but it was very late when they did make it to town. No one answered at first when he banged on the door at the Inn. “Hello! Please help us!”

“Go away” came the response through the door. “There’s no room here!” “Ohhh! Joseph, the baby!” His wife was in so much pain. Desperate now, Joseph turned to the door again, and pounded. “Open the door, you dog!”

“Go to the stable around back!”, came the response. Joseph was turning red with anger now. It was Miriam though that calmed him down. Holding her stomach, she touched his arm and pleaded softly, “Please Joseph, let’s go to the stable.”

And once they were settled in the hay, he experienced the most awful, the most horrible, and yet the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He wasn’t sure he would ever make love to her – not with all this pain she went through. He couldn’t stand it.

And she had been so brave! Somehow, she had had the strength, to survive the gossip, the looks of disgust of those that did not believe her.

All he could do really, during the birth, was to help her breathe. She never took her eyes off his. “Breathe Miriam!”, he would continue to say, helping her through the pushing, as he held her hand. It went on like this through most of the night.

“Joseph!” She yelled, then she screamed, and suddenly the child fell into his arms! “Dear God!”, he said out loud again. And suddenly light filled the place, an almost blinding light….. “Joseph……” the now exhausted Miriam managed to whisper…….. “Joseph, this child is very special……”

He managed to whisper in return, “I know….” As the light overwhelmed them completely, they both wept like children, as he gently placed the child, on her chest, covering him with blankets………


Writing © Copyright 2017, ancient skies,

Image from Nasa

The Strength of a Poet


The strength of a poet is never found in the revelation

of their words or in the hidden meanings,

or the perfect alignment

of their phrases.

Instead, their strength depends on which river,

which light

what source of the eternal,

they allow

to wash over them,

to refresh, to surge

through, their hearts

and their minds.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies