Streams often meander, turning, descending,
flowing into our beings,
blending
strengthening our rivers,
our thirst for spirit satisfied
our dreams for refreshing
being answered,
until oceans fill us
encompassing even sunsets
over the waves.
Wordflow.
Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
And I sought peace that day, gazing
into the infinite,
not as an umbrella
or linen garment
but more of a light
within my frame.
Purity.
Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
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
She had hoped and prayed that the purple would be strong. She could not hear them, but the people of her village were cheering having seen
the manifestation of colors. There was hope now that her mate would be found and the darkness that threatened them turned away, once and for all.
Having dunked her head 3 times the immersion was complete, as her tatoo on her chest glowed with her newly infused moonlight.
She made her way back to shore as the sun was beginning rise. She pushed her large frame through the waves without effort.
Her first vision of him began as she flipped back her hair. His hair was reddish brown…..muscular build…..was he a warrior?
He was inside something she could not understand……..
He angrily slammed another button increasing his internal air flow. “Warning!”, “Warning!” sounded in the cabin.
He silenced the alarm and winced at the pain in his leg. A crash landing had not been expected……..
She had seen the whole thing as only a seer could, and whispered into his mind…..
“I see you, and I am coming for you!”
He heard her voice but could only see an amazing array of colors……
Writing and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
In every heart lives a poem, from the deep within,
from our spirits formed drifting
searching for the courage
to release the light,
the healing of phrases
making us new, encouraging our sparkle
from the sun.
Poetry and Image © Copyright, 2018, revised 2020, ancient skies
I love how the ocean listens to our prayers,
sometimes shaping the words
in the rolling of up
and down, flowing almost
as a liturgy.
And somehow we listen too
going deeper and farther
in our hearts,
with the rhythm
of the waves, carrying us.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
Hope seldom comes down vertically, as if falling down from above, usually hope moves along horizontally from one person,
to another, to another, to another…… as in waves moving through our oceans.
Have you encouraged someone today?
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
