poetry, fiction, nature, culture, compassion, love
Wordflow only holds onto the healing of poetry
as long as bitterness is cast away
spinning, descending
back to where it came from.
Our best work
lives with a heart running
like prayers on the wings
of birds soaring.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
There are 393 million guns in the United States, not including military and police weapons.
We have more guns here than we have people. For every man, woman, child, and infant…. there is a gun, and more than that.
There are times that police arrive on the scene of a shooting and they are out gunned by the shooter.
Countries such as Britain don’t have mass shootings because they have few guns. It’s simple math really.
Having more guns makes us less safe.
And yet certain Senators continue to block legislation that would help us to be safer.
If you live in the U.S. please let your Congressional representatives and Senators know you want some common sense gun control.
The time is now.
Peace.
Writing and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
Note: This is a public safety announcement. More poetry is on the way.
“Success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life, as by the obstacles which he has overcome.”
Booker T. Washington
Wishing you great success today as you overcome obstacles, inspiring others with your courage!
May your sails be filled with power and beauty!
Note: This is from my archives.
Writing and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
In our wounds disguised
we do not seek who we once were,
instead moving forward
we find ourselves
smoothing jagged lines
rejecting the temptation of bitterness
determined
we are the rivers creating
a new vision, of who we should be
in spite of the darkness.
We fight on.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
As victory courses through our veins, yet hidden within
we can grasp a few lines,
discovering our light
and even a piece of hope
realizing
scars really can lose their power,
loosing control, or any influence at all
over who we are now.
Each of us river,
in our own right.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
Well I admit it, I’ve been holding back. After all we’ve been through within the past two years with this president, I think we’re all burned out, trying to just survive our battle fatigue.
And that’s the biggest danger, that we will not care anymore. It doesn’t really matter does it, that he’s lied so much, that he hides his money, that he does seem to have obstructed justice a number of times, that he just wants to look good,
that the AG spun the report in a positive way, causing conservatives to do the happy dance, when in fact the report isn’t positive at all.
Another protector blocking attempts to find the truth simply because, he’s “conservative”.
But it does matter when people do wrong and try to get other people to do wrong too.
Did you know you don’t have to commit a crime to be impeached?
Yes eating chicken during a hearing is stupid, and inappropriate, but we need to protect our democracy,
not a politician who believes he is above the law, and that he should be able to do whatever he wants. Nah, we don’t need that.
Writing and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
For some reason he could not open his eyes. It was the tug on his chest that woke him though. Someone or something was pulling on his left bicep.
“Hold still!” A woman’s voice pushed him back down again when he tried to sit up. He forced one eye open, but his head hurt so badly he passed out again. She must have pulled him away from the wolves, and she was stitching him up.
When he did awake he was inside the earth……wait no……he was in an earthen lodge. The wind outside told him they were in the middle of a tenacious storm. She offered him a bowl of something warm. All she said was, “Drink.” He did, and it was smooth warmth going down. He tasted honey among other things.
She looked at him with a knife in her hands. “I know you’re immune from the last disease unleashed, otherwise you wouldn’t be here….my name is Brie, and I think we should help each other…..but if you ever hurt me……you will be a dead man.” She meant it and he knew it. He tried to say he would never do such a thing…….
He noticed a youngster, maybe 3 years old playing behind her. She said, “His name is Jared, named after his father – long since passed away…..” So that was it, she was alone in the wilderness. And she was pregnant again. He did ask, and she was due in a couple of days. He shook his head that he understood.
“The drink will help you sleep……I’ll need your help in a few days, delivering.” He fell into a deep sleep……thinking that she was attractive, but he was worried about the knife……. at least he did know how a child is born……
from the Apocalyptic Journal
Writing and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
