I try not to write from my scars. They’re there of course like everyone else, but I make every attempt not to give them too much credit.
So I write from the light or try to. Pieces of encouragement, maybe some profound peace, shaping words into a gentle rain of spring. Rivers instead.
Even if there is a storm, it doesn’t hold onto me anymore.
Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed
Like many other writers, he refused to see winter as an old grey barn,
or a frozen field abandoned,
and in his walks he really did get infused,
his spirit was lifted.
And he used his wings
to write it all down.
Poetry and Image Copyright © 2020 rivers renewed, ice sculpture by unknown artist
In all that we see around us, and in our world, does our wordflow, our paintflow, become affected?
We often see with our hearts – so how do we respond? I wonder at times if I should stop blogging.
I won’t replay the news but so many horrible things are happening. Racism, killings in the street, disease taking so many away, and an economy faltering.
How can I write, or attempt to write something beautiful in these difficult times?
Well maybe, just maybe that’s the best time to write, and create artwork.
We don’t turn a blind eye, yet we offer hope by sharing our hearts through our creations.
And hopefully……we share something beautiful…..with our world.
Amen.
Writing and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
A silver thread of dawn waking, sky held
muted
in the stillness
his eyes felt heavy brushing the stardust away,
he’d been dreaming of the ancients,
of poems from sages
with prophecies revealed
and the power of psalms.
Could his pen hold the light?
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
As the Spirit of Lying continues to strangle Washington D.C.,
choking our democracy,
ripping our unity
we do occasionally have glimpses of light.
And the light of truth
will prevail,
subduing even the far right subverting,
Lying to win, winning at all costs,
will eventually
destroy itself.
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
