Shaping Words into a Gentle Rain

I try not to write from my scars. They’re there of course like everyone else, but I make every attempt not to give them too much credit.

So I write from the light or try to. Pieces of encouragement, maybe some profound peace, shaping words into a gentle rain of spring. Rivers instead.

Even if there is a storm, it doesn’t hold onto me anymore.

Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Poems from the Broken Sky

The wordflow began that day as the sky broke open and the lightning descended. To be honest I was half expecting Lakota to be spoken on the wind, or maybe language from one of the other tribes.

Green leaves shimmered on tree branches waving in the storm, and I knew there would be no angels this time. Only fragments of sentences, an idea floating here or there, I knew I must write.

Wordflow storms are like that sometimes, elusive, yet beautiful, and terrible all at the same time.

And in our brokenness sometimes the beautiful,

is no longer hidden.

Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Note: This is fiction….sort of.

After the Stillness of the Dark Night

After the stillness of the dark night, the cloudy sky surrenders to the dawn…..

Wait…..something or someone is nudging me….as she says:

“Sweetheart you’re dreaming poetry again…..

something about after the stillness of the dark night

the cloudy sky surrenders….to the dawn…”

As I turn over and we embrace, I mumble,

“Sorry My Love….” and we drift off

to sleep

once again.

Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Note: This is fiction…..sort of.