Ghosts Often Keep Silent

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In the mist, in the density of fog, ghosts often keep silent

taking away even the joy

of birds chirping

preferring a silent forest,

yet keeping their presence

their shadows as they

blip

in and out, waiting

saving the scare

for tourists with too much cologne

and clean,

expensive tennis shoes.

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

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Whispering into the Woods

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When I whispered into the woods today,

into the peace,

into the quiet waiting,

poems escaped

and prayers took shape lifting themselves

far beyond the tallest trees,

and I realized I was filtering

through the sunlight and the shade.

We need both really

to understand

our own

heart language.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

The Silence Calls to Me

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As my walk goes deeper into the forest, the silence calls to me.

Cooler air envelops the trees

covered by the shade, I turn suddenly when a sparrow leaves her nest.

Noticing the sunlight is diffused now

looking with my heart filled,

I bow my head

as a lone crow ruffles his feathers

disturbed by my sense

of quiet.

We do make peace and then…..

I let the words flow,

but is it really a prayer?

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies