The Deepest Parts of Our Spirits

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If peace is a river, why do the nations rage?

perhaps we are still broken, needing the gentle rain

to wash us, and our new soil

preparing us for

the resurrection

of spring,

a sense of hope

healing the deepest parts

of our spirits.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies

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When Our Poetry is a River

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When our poetry is a river, our spirits will walk

with confidence, gathering hawks

on our shoulders, while dismantling

our fear, when it tries to scream

“flee like a bird to your mountain.”

Words have always 

given us

strength.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies

We Do Eventually Become the River

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When we are in our seasons of prayer,

it’s not that we are sending our hopes, our dreams

down the stream, as paper boats toppling –

fragile vessels, through the rapids.

No.

We do eventually become the river,

sending hope

and the power of faith, surging,

merging,

with the greatest

of all oceans,

victorious.

   

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies