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It was in the winter when I first began walking,
seeking the journey of a quiet spirit,
the healing of silence in the woods,
the wholeness of a snowfall
in the purity of cold air.
And still today
the wisdom of a young man’s heart
can defend, provide a light
for this old guy to follow.
Winter still speaks.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
Slowly turning, falling, finding its way
in the soft wind
a snowflake floating
as if prayers were always answered
descending down
until finally finding
its way
to the man’s nose.
Producing yet another
smile on his face.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
Soft words filling our depths, the deepest parts
of our spirits,
will help us to focus
on the peace within,
will quiet our hearts
as if we were made
from the sky
and water.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
When I see the doves in the morning light, I know there is still
some tenderness in this world, a gentle strength,
they encourage faithfulness, don’t they?
Yet I see their determination
to be vulnerable,
and to be
together.
Note: Based on a poem called “The Doves”, posted May 2015
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
I actually wrote a poem today, asking
God about the rain
He wasn’t angry,
but there was more in the wind,
than simply
conversation.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
It was when he reached for her hand that her blushing began,
and he was never afraid, he never
pulled back,
from her shaking spirit
instead
embracing her until
the waves of fear passed away.
She surrendered
to his courage,
but they both surrendered really.
He never regretted his dedication
to her, instead he lived for her smile,
and for the chance
to hold her hand again.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
In the treetops, in the whispers of the wind
I sense You near, as the grass moves,
and the clouds roll slowly
across the sky.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
