As the Trail Opens Up by the Lake

A dragonfly buzzes close to me,

then glides back into the woods,

as I continue through the shadows, and sun

the trail opens up by the lake,

and I can sense now,

that I was never alone.

    

Note: I hope you have enjoyed the Mountain Walking series. I love writing this way.

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

In the Peace of Our Mountains

In the peace of our mountains the victory is won,

embracing the oneness,

letting go of the storms,

and covered, in the hope

of the unending blue.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

Walking with the Shadows

A twig snaps under my foot, as I stop in mid-stride

a crow drops noisily on a large branch,

bouncing, looking, inspecting

my progress, while I let my foot down

gently. I stand remembering

the First People,

Crow, they were called

and that chief,

named Standing Bear. Shadows

moving through the trees,

leaving only feathers –

the crow hides quietly

this time on a taller branch,

perhaps there was a ghost

brushing

against the ferns.

I start walking again, silently

with shadows blending.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

In the Whispers of the Wind

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

Mountain Walking

As you know I love the mountains, even though I’m not able to spend as much time there as I would like. And I love writing about them, and walking around observing nature. Walking is one of my hobbies too. So I’ve decided that for the next few days, I will post poems about walking in nature, and especially in the mountains.

I believe that nature can bring great healing to us, in both body and spirit.

I often think and pray while I walk, and I’ll share some of that as well.

Welcome, to my Mountain Walking series.

I wish you peace.

   

Writing and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

In the Blue Covering the Mountains

In the blue covering the mountains, my heart sings

resurrecting poems

I thought were dead,

and words float easily now,

soaring

on eagle’s wings.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

The Voice Worth Remembering

A whispering wind, the grass bending fresh,

cool air, from the side of the mountain, 

down swirling

speaking, stillness into us

if we are listening,

to the voice

worth remembering.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies