When the leaves begin their fire, loves becomes more tangible,
more real to us,
and in the drawing close for warmth
we are encouraged in each other,
with our hearts
able to move forward,
once again.
Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies
On the trail that day, in the wind, where the oak leaves whisper, shadows of wings covered him, from the sky…
yet he was never afraid, even with the distant sounds of singing, of chanting and drums, he noticed shadows shifting,
so he stopped with a poem nearing its creation. Sitting on a large rock with prayer beginning as a spring,
light flickered and when he opened his eyes he found…..
he was the river, after all.
Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies
The refreshing kiss of cooler air,
the dawn of crisp mornings
waiting for the sun,
beginning the season of surrender
where leaves let go of their green,
to receive the infusion
of a greater glory.
It won’t be long now.
Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies
Leaves dance to the rhythm of the rain, while tree limbs sway and I realize,
something within me enjoys the wildness of the storm, thunder rolls and boils in the sky,
yet I’m not afraid, instead…amazed how creation nourishes the earth, as the rain becomes gentle again.
Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
The calmness of the river in the woods
filled my soul,
as logs and stones
guided the flow, and the coolness
of leaves and tree limbs
enveloped me.
Peaceflow.
Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
Leaves don’t really surrender
to decay,
they simply let go
embracing the Earth
in the cycle
of life.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
In the space between the seasons, sunlight filters gently
in and through the leaves
giving us a mix of green
and yet some of the glory
found in the golden treasure
of autumn.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
Note: I’m under the weather today and will be back soon.
Standing on top of the mountain he could see so many wounds now
on the earth as if people had allowed faith
to pass through
without paying attention,
so the paths overgrown
disappeared,
though he often
respected the candles
he walked beyond what had been
letting go of tired sermons,
the worn out reaching
but he never lost himself,
instead
within the light bathing, the songs
of the leaves
the forest spoke to his heart,
that he was never
alone.
Not ever.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
Within the soft movement of leaves
a poem stirred within me,
and still
I knew the healing
held my breath in wonder
as if this moment
was all new
had just been discovered,
and the light
filled me
once again.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
In the final chapter of autumn, we will still be infused
with her colors and inspiration,
her invigoration,
if only
in our memories.
Note: These will probably be my last photos this year
of the inspiring colors of autumn.
Poetry and Images © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
