How I Feel About My Wings

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Well I do believe that I am lifted, and encouraged by having wings and yet in these times of smoke and ruins,

they’re actually essential for our very survival….not the dark wings of course, formed in fire,

and the storms of our scars, but the wings shaped from the earth, and sky and oceans, blended…

so beautifully with our heartsongs.

Some say rivers are more powerful, but I’m not sure that’s true. Both can run through us and within us

bringing us hope in supernatural ways……

Ain’t that amazing??

     

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

How I Shape Shifted

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It was a matter of the light of course, I could see more clearly the beauty of our world,

and the value of people so different than I am….amazing colors and heartsongs.

So it was no surprise when I let the shifting begin, I was saying no to so many cultural ideas of doctrines,

and drama…saying no to people blinded by their own ideas, prejudice in so many ways, running through their blood. My own heartsong changed over time.

And that’s really how I became more accepting of people, although certain codes will always be true,

I’m different from who I was, a more benevolent spirit I guess, with a few swirls of silver now.

Hoping and wishing, everyone finds their own wings….and who they truly are.

      

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

A Poem Tapped Me on My Shoulder

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A poem snuck up on me today, tapped me on my shoulder,

whispered in my ear,

as if hawk’s breath

would made it stronger,

I felt the shifting,

the surprise of a small piece

of light,

the shaping of words and phrases

from my heartflow,

the mystical creation

of poetry.

       

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Note: My break is working! I will post 2-3 times a week for now. Thank you so much for reading!

The Sacred Feather

100_1051It wasn’t until he was near the top of the ridge that he distinctly heard a set of wings, it was unmistakable…

so he looked up into the brightness of the sun. He saw nothing…but felt the presence of wings.

Was it an eagle’s spirit, or an angel? He couldn’t tell. And then one single white feather, tinged with grey came floating down,

landing on his shoulder, and for some reason he felt….well protected. Then he remembered,

that feathers could be held as sacred…..he carried that feather in his hand to the top of the mountain,

then he closed his eyes, whispering a prayer. He didn’t know it then, but a very large shadow of wings covered him……

so completely.

      

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Seeking that Place

20160418_122232Bluejays sang their most sacred songs in the highest branches of the tallest trees,

while the blue sky shifted and white clouds followed that rugged trail,

he ascended, heart full of burdens seeking that place, that place where God lived, or least

it seemed that way, to the top… on the largest of rocks, where everything could be seen, 

that special place of a calmness where violence was always rejected, and light….could be tangibly felt.

     

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Our Spirits Will Still Speak to Us

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In this age where beauty and revelation are wounded

from disease and fear,

our spirits will still speak to us,

as if oceans still lived in our frames,

and as strength filters back into us

we will be confident once again,

standing tall

even in the mist and the ruins.

       

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

The Sunset of December

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I was up high in the sunset of December

with shadows of tree limbs covering

and hawk wings flying over,

giving me a wild feeling untamed

yet I turned back to the valley

having surrendered, with dreams

of a hot cup of tea,

and My Love cooking

some spicy noodles.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Note: Sometimes small things are more beautiful.

The Night of Dragons

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Fur coated dragons drifted into the kingdom during the night, along with a fresh coat of ice.

Snow swirled from time to time, giving a false sense of innocence to the difusion of light.

Yet the dragons only carried a holy fire, so the people were not afraid when the fires broke out.

They had waited so very long for deliverance, from leaders gone rogue, only the guilty were burned.

The people were sober, it was not a time to rejoice, but they knew what the dragons had done, was right.

And the fur coated dragons returned to their kingdom, in the cover of night. The ice remained, yet silent.

Snow swirled from time to time, giving a false sense of innocence.

     

Writing and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies