Wildflowers Calling Forth the Sun

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We are made from many streams, aren’t we? pieces of a larger river twisting

through open fields, our lives as a meadow thirsting, for nourishment, with wildflowers….

calling forth the sun, to the mud on the shoreline, we sense, we learn our direction,

becoming the very grain we dream about, and allowing the wind to gently move

through us, in the fields.

          

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Note: This may sound mystical but it’s actually about our hearts and whatever faith life we have.

Happy Easter, Happy Passover

20180428_172027Today millions of Christians around the world will be celebrating Easter, the resurrection of Christ.

It is a season of new life. If you keep this day, may God bless you and fill you with faith and goodness.

And my Jewish friends are celebrating Passover. It is a time of remembering their freedom from slavery.

The term “Passover” comes from the night the angel of death “passed over” the people, sparing their lives. Did you know that? 

I have a number of faiths represented here and I’m very glad you’re here!

By the way the cherry blossoms and tulips are in full bloom, and the earth is bursting with spring.

Peace to each one and great blessings.

      

Writing, Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Forest Meditations

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As I entered the trail, lingering March winds pushed the canopy of tree tops one way and the other,

all at the same time, yet I was quickly surrounded by the gentleness of the forest,

a safe place deep in the coolness of the earth.

The wildflowers were blue this time, while the vanity of the woodpecker could be heard

in the distance. And I wondered how far a prayer could travel, certainly beyond the poplar and oak trees…

I understood then, how peace walked this earth, from the very beginning.

       

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

On the Third Day

20191019_103711I was in prayer on the third day having been summoned by the mountain,

I began to climb the steep path but it was nothing but rocks and pitfalls, so battered and bruised

I hurried, realizing we needed to defeat the crows, keep them from filling the pine trees,

so bluejays could build their nests……and spring would come to us this year……finally and at last.

               

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Note: The term third day here, means the third day of the week, which is Tuesday. This is fiction.