When I Was a River

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When I was a river I didn’t mind the rapids, the turbulence

carrying me further, around the rocks

up and over,

beyond, what was possible,

I was always moving.

And now that I’m a lake

I go deeper,

and deeper still

into the peace,

in the depths

of the spirit.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

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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