Within My Peace

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When readers come to my site what do they expect to see? Poetry mostly, or maybe a short story, but they are not really looking for political commentary. That’s not the way I designed this site.

And yet I feel things deeply, as many of us do, and much of what we see seems so wrong. How do we stop the madness?

Perhaps as artists and writers we are made internally to feel strongly and observe the insanity, so that we can articulate a response in a creative way.

And yet I hold back, firstly because of what I’ve mentioned. And secondly because I could easily spend all my time caught up in the turmoil of the times we live in.

I need freedom of spirit and mind to spread my writing wings. So I don’t need to solve the world’s problems, and especially not here on this site.

And yet you will on occasion see some lines on how I feel, hopefully in a natural way, usually condemning hate. I do think we should take a stand.

And finally, I am a progressive even though I don’t agree with everything they come up with, and that’s ok. I wasn’t always progressive though.

I think I can give a unique perspective because I’ve been on both sides of the aisle.

Within my peace I strive for a clear vision.

I hope you all feel respected and appreciated here. Thank you for listening.

Peace to you.

      

Writing and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

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The Late Winter Rain

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Sleepily, before the morning dawn, mist begins the rain.

As I listen in the dark, ice crystals descend here

and there on the roof. Pitter patter,

then, in an opening of the heavens

the snow is washed disappearing,

a silent reminder

of the promise of spring

living in more than

our distant dreams,

as I pull up the covers enfolded

and fall back to sleep.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

As Chipmunks Burrow a Little Deeper

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A shifting drift on the mountain ridge maneuvers

as a fresh layer of frozen white settles into the Earth.

The bluest of blue skies seems to hold in the coldness,

as chipmunks burrow

a little deeper, to escape the cold

and the watchful eyes of the hawk perched high

in the pine trees.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Winter Still Speaks

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It was in the winter when I first began walking,

seeking the journey of a quiet spirit,

the healing of silence in the woods,

the wholeness of a snowfall

in the purity of cold air.

And still today

the wisdom of a young man’s heart

can defend, provide a light

for this old guy to follow.

Winter still speaks.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies