Her mystery, her very own essence rolling through the waves, and the release of her heart song ascending through the ocean air,
but would he hear her calling, even in the neglect of his own spirit? still grasping for that mountaintop as if he could see into the history forming.
Would he hear her calling from the depths of her desperation?
Would he hear her voice?
Poetry and Image, Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed
Note: This is experimental.
Seagulls hover, floating on the wind mostly white wings,
dipped in black
ignoring the shadows of the coming storm
I turn to My Love and her eyes are closed,
as she whispers a prayer
and I realize, perhaps comprehend
the peace of the waves,
and the healing
of a blue sky
yet remaining…
Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies
There are times when the wind from the ocean is malicious, yet on this day he noticed the wind was carrying a particulate peace from the depths,
moving beyond the weight and heaviness below the surface, instead moving determined, up and over,
towards the shore, and through the pines trees, winnowing. Finally swirling around his face, around his being,
whispering words, that lifted his spirit in an unknown language, sort of like music. So in a deep breath, he let it all go…..
How is it that the wind seeks us, until we are encouraged?
Poetry and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies
And in my dream I was drawn to the surface of the ocean, as if coming alive again,
or hearing for the first time, with My Love whispering, “Breathe deeply” and she said….
“you will find your significance, the freedom of your spirit….if you will only open…”
It was then my lungs filled, taking in….the purest of air.
Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies
Sunlight on the waves, and seagulls declaring their glory remind me of so many summers ago.
Of rafting in the ocean, and fishing in the twilight. Of swimming in the waves, ducking under
and the 14 year old me, being liked by the brown haired girl. I wished I had asked her name.
Of Dad and I walking the boardwalk. Of fried chicken dinners, and so many shadows of him
still living here, as I walk barefoot in the wet sand.
Lord God, I do miss him, but thank you for my Dad.
Happy Father’s Day.
Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
I find the universe in My Love’s eyes,
the earth,
the oceans
and skies.
Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
The rhythym of the waves speaking to who we truly are,
we are spirit
and in the quieting of our inner life
we remember
it was not always this way,
there truly was a connection.
And I realize now
the oceans cleanse us
from who
we were never meant to be,
restoring us,
so amazingly.
Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
The white blur of wings descending,
following the infinite line
of two blues converging,
as rocks on the shore count
the rhythm of waves.
He leans against a pine tree
and closes his eyes,
focusing
on a prayer.
Seagull wings.
Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
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
