A Walk in the Sun

20180428_171951

An amazing thing happened to me today.

As I was walking, the sun was shining,

the wind was blowing,

dandelions

were popping up everywhere

in the deep deep green,

and cherry blossums

appeared out of nowhere.

Then suddenly…..

a smile appeared

on my face!

Can you believe it?

       

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Note: Keep fighting and stay healthy!

In the Poet’s Heart

100_1652

In the poet’s heart we hold the light dancing with colors

filling our phrases shaping,

guiding, directing the surge of words

through us

the intensity into our pens,

confident.

And in our decreasing

we seek a river

or an ocean

dolphins playing in the waves

to fill us

once again.

     

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2016, revised 2020, ancient skies

On the Third Day

20191019_103711I was in prayer on the third day having been summoned by the mountain,

I began to climb the steep path but it was nothing but rocks and pitfalls, so battered and bruised

I hurried, realizing we needed to defeat the crows, keep them from filling the pine trees,

so bluejays could build their nests……and spring would come to us this year……finally and at last.

               

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Note: The term third day here, means the third day of the week, which is Tuesday. This is fiction.

Mystical Snowstorm

20180204_121555

As I watch from the back of our a house, a mystical snowstorm embraces, engulfs the top of the mountain,

following the ridgeline, wind howling, raging into swirls, some sleet falling, tearing

at the bare limbs of the forest, and I wonder can there be any beauty in the middle of a storm?

Or should we expect the fire of an ancient prophet, or maybe visions of a flaming sword?

A few minutes later a quiet snow descends, reaching our neighborhood, as the wind moves softly now,

and God speaks, this time using the pine trees.

           

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Note: We can see the mountains from where we live. Storms begin there and move in our direction.

Swirling in the Snow and the Wind

100_5669

Sometimes barely a thread connects my spirit to wordflow

and yet I find my voice surprising me

in a snow covered forest,

as if the wind was whispering

my name, and somehow knew me

more than I ever thought possible.

And so I write these few lines

hoping and praying

that a poem lives within.

Listen……do you hear your own whispers?

they’re swirling in the snow

and the wind.

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies