When I Was Young

When I was young years ago, it seemed like the spirit moved through the trees more often,

and there was never any malice in the air

lingering

in the shadows,

even the ghosts were innocent of blood,

and were seldom scary.

Everything was so different back then.

Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Note: This is fiction.

Call of the Woods

He was a boy when he first rejected confederate flags, shotguns, and red Ford pickup trucks, the way the men talked about black people at the barber shop. He knew he was different, having sensed the call of the woods.

Some force he couldn’t see, beckoning. By 18 he could read trail signs, and knew where the crows nested and their favorite corn field…where the rabbits hid when the hawk flew by.

He did follow rivers, knew the deer as friends, more importantly he felt God’s presence in the snow falling…..with a love for the unknown, that he could not see.

Heart Song from the woods.

Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

The Gift of Rain

What surprised him the most was the strength of the bow, the Living Bow. Would she accept him? How many times had he trained with his uncle? Yet he was able to notch the arrow as the bow yielded.

He began pulling it back, and his arms quickly began straining. The bow yielded more and began to sing. He pulled her back further as she began a heavenly chorus, with the sound of many voices. And further he pulled, now pointing the arrow straight up at grey clouds.

He heard his Mother’s voice…..his Mother who wasn’t there, yet was everywhere at once, saying, “Always use your gifts for good, never for evil…” He let the arrow fly, and the Living Bow stopped her singing….At first there was nothing yet gradually he felt a drop here, then there.

And eventually it did rain….over the scorched and dry land.

So it was true after all he thought.

He did have the gift of rain.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

The Sky Began Breaking

The sky began breaking as a few persistent snowflakes descended mixed with rain. I carved another arrow, while My Love shifted slightly in her buckskin, placing more wood on the fire crackling.

The horses next to our lodge, snorted their steam, anxious to return to the valley. I knew it would not be long until our band of brothers tracked our food in the snow. Then bows pulled in breathless silence….

I woke up with a start, sitting up realizing it was all just a dream……with the one I love breathing quietly next to me. A picture of beauty and peace.

Yet I could have sworn I heard……the thunder of hoofbeats in the distance…..

Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Note: This is fiction, and poetry.

Winter Vision Quest

It was winter when he left the reservation. No one sought a vision in the winter, but he did, he needed to. Maybe vision wasn’t the right word, but he was searching for cleansing……some type of hope, anything really. Despair and vodka had taken their toll. It was good to be in the mountains again, even with the snow. And he smiled noticing how slow his mule was.

He had everything he needed, the mule, a good rifle, his bow (that he had made years ago from the finest oak), and a small lodge with blankets. He knew he was also carrying grief for his people, the poverty and sickness slowly killing them…. yes a vision is what they all needed.

Days later, with a fire going….. the vision came in the smoke and flames. He saw his people being reborn. It was spring and everything was blooming. The people were strong and happy…. not sick at all.

He knew he must take this vision back to his people, to encourage each one. The end of all things…. was not quite not yet.

They would all live again.

Writing Copyright © 2015, revised 2020 rivers renewed, image from Pinterest, Crow Scout taken 1908

Note: This was not written initially about the virus, but I think it applies today.

Texting Heaven

I just received a text from Henry Vu, the Vietnamese angel I have mentioned before and he is tied up right now, someplace in Europe. He is hoping to drop by when he is finished his assignment, something about helping doctors and nurses….

and he’s working on getting permission from the Angel Command Center. You know how bureaucrats are. I digress….

He’s a cool guy with some amazing stories, so I hope he can make it.

There was the time he helped a Jewish family overcome the fear of Neo Nazis in the United States. And there was the time the Martinez family had a child in ICU…..anyway you get the idea.

Henry sent the photo above, and says it was taken in Brussels.

Peace out.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2020 rivers renewed

Peace on Earth

Peace, love, joy, hope, are all such beautiful parts of our human experience any time of year, but somehow they are especially prominent around Christmastime. Or at least they should be!

And there’s so much light. This is not a religious blog, or even a faith based one and yet, once a year I allow myself some celebrating! I always respect other faiths and people with no faith. That’s who I am as a person.

I’ve mentioned Christmas because I have somewhat of my own tradition here. I share some fiction for a few days. What?? You write fiction too Nico? Yep, I sure do! I love sharing little pieces of light, so I hope you enjoy them this coming week. And I will spread out some poetry throughout. Can you tell I’m having a good time?

Are you curious about some of the fiction? Well there’s Henry Vu, a Vietnamese angel. And there’s Rosa Gonzalez who has a visit from her dead mother. I might also throw in some romance too, such as a story called Popcorn and Tattoos. So hang on!

If you are looking for a more faith based site, I have one you can check out. What??? Yep, it’s true.

http://walkingthroughpsalms.wordpress.com

Peace, and may the vaccine get here soon!

Poetry and Image Copyright © 2020 rivers renewed

The Christmas Ghost – A Gift for Mama

……Rosa began to see a faint outline where she thought a person sat down, almost like a grey mist. It took shape! The being, whoever it was, turned to look at her. The shape took the form of a woman. Rosa could make out the woman’s hair, which she recognize immediately – and then she saw the woman’s face!

The image said, “Rosa…”, Rosa was shaking now, and said “Mama?” Rosa instinctively reached out for her but, her mother told her no, “Only my spirit is here Rosa”. “Mama I’m so sorry for all the things I said that night!” “I know sweetheart…I did not die because of you though….I needed to tell you that.” “That’s one of the reasons I’m here. I love you more than I know how to say!”

They talked for awhile and Rosa’s mother mostly spoke about forgiveness. Streams of tears flowed from Rosa’s eyes but mostly they were tears of joy. And then her mother changed the topic, mentioning church.

“I only wanted you to experience the peace, joy and hope of this season sweetheart…..” Rosa suddenly had the idea of what she could give her mother for Christmas…..”Mama, thank you and I know what gift to give to both of us!…..I will go church tonight, this very night……it’s Christmas Eve after all!”

It wasn’t long after that, Rosa saw her mother fade away, but she had the biggest smile on her face as she faded. And her last words to Rosa this time were, “and remember to forgive yourself sweetheart….”.

Rosa sat for quite awhile alone, letting everything her Mama said, sink in. So everything did end well.

Rosa wanted to tell you that she did go to church that night, wearing her only dress, and her large overcoat, both she had bought from Goodwill. And no one there called her a whore.

In fact they were quite friendly, especially during the time of offering her the peace. As she continued going there, they also helped to get a better job. The last I heard she was working in the admissions department of the local community college.

She also wishes you peace.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2020 rivers renewed

The Christmas Ghost

Rosa heard music again, a choir singing “Hark the Herald Angels Sing”, in the distance. As she sat on the edge of her bed, tears flowing, she looked over at her mother’s picture on her nightstand. She could still hear the words, the arguing, from the last night Rosa saw her alive.

“Mama they will call me a whore!”. She knew it wasn’t true, but she was willing to say anything that night to get her off the track of Rosa going to church. “Rosa, please…it’s Christmas Eve after all.”

It was the night her mother passed away. And the guilt Rosa felt about everything, was crashing in on her now, including the wild parties, and drinking until she was senseless.

Grabbing her head, and laying on the bed, the pain was getting worse. And why were the women at her job so mean to her today? She could not help it that she didn’t know English very well. They were vicious, and all for working at a fast-food restaurant!

She shouted, “I hate Christmas!” into the ceiling, then sat up and went for the pill bottle in her nightstand. She stopped, there was that music again….. “Where was it coming from……?”

She also had a feeling, an unusual sense, that someone else was there in the room now…..but strangely, she wasn’t afraid. And then oddly someone sat on her bed…..or at least it seemed that way, but she didn’t see anyone…..

To be continued….

Writing and Image Copyright © revised 2020 rivers renewed

Note this is fiction.

When Light Breaks Through

When light breaks through the heart of a writer,

a new path opens

where there was none.

And sometimes the light

for the path was there,

yet we had forgotten

where to find it.

The other day when I wrote, “Modern Love”, it was a real breakthrough for me, not because it was something new,

but because I used to write that way alot. I love writing minifiction. And in spite of everything, in spite of living in the middle

of a pandemic, my wife having cancer again, in spite of working long hours sometimes, I can still write like that,

and yes poetry too. I was encouraged and light was breaking through in many beautiful ways.

Thank you for reading!

Poem, Writing and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies