poetry, fiction, nature, culture, compassion, love
In the softness of the golden sun memories sway, flickering
through our hearts,
thoughts of younger love,
of you and I
our boots swishing through the leaves,
holding hands
with gloves on,
and drawing you close,
smiling
in our autumn jackets.
My Love, do you remember
that day in the park?
Note: The park is where I asked her to marry me. We’ve always spent alot of time in parks.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
In our walk, within our journey
it’s so easy to lose sight
of the sunlight and joy,
yet may the rain
and the pain
not destroy us
but cleanse us,
and renew.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
We were writers back then, weren’t we My Love?
Writing over every scar,
infusing every story
with the imprint of the other
inseparable really,
an edge
to our day and night
as we got lost in each other’s arms
and found out who
we really were
with fresh lines
we even spoke our own language,
had a certain wildness.
Love written
on our hearts,
so amazingly…….
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
I was surprised when you produced such a clean set of daggars, even after I told you I was hurting……
but you didn’t care, even thinking it was funny, and yes your death blows were devastating……
but each one cracking, opening up a space for light, to seep through and slowly…..
I could see more clearly. Yes I died every day, but eventually I figured out how to pull my shape back together quickly……..
the fragments, the frozen pieces, and I began refusing your kingdom of abandonment and strangulation……
and I walked away, never running, because to be honest, I’m not scared of you anymore.
Note: I’m fine, and my wife and I are fine. We all go through tragedies of some type, dont we? These feelings are expressing pieces of what it feels like……to survive.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
I was in my heart on a dry day, and the ocean wind would not satisfy, no matter how much I believed.
So I went through the dunes hunting. Hunting for a reason some people are healed…..
and why some only have the faith of a little bird, with small wings.
Still others are a tortoise shell, hiding their heart, protecting themselves at all costs.
I breathed, and I couldn’t help it, I couldn’t keep holding it all, so I let it all go……every heartache.
And finally I allowed myself……to embrace the wind……from the ocean.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
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
Death will not speak to us when we lift our poems
as banners waving in the wind,
our words we will fling
like javelins
straight into the heart
of darkness
into the Goliath we call hate
and in the end,
we win,
because love always wins.
This
is our warfare.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017 2019, ancient skies
Note: From my archives.
