poetry, fiction, nature, culture, compassion, love
The shadow of crow wings fall
on my shoulders
as a grasshopper takes off again,
from the tall grass,
a few more steps and the crow calls
as if to awaken me
looking up I realize
brother sun
is in both our eyes
filling us
with courage.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
In our spirits, the very core of our beings,
lives a special place, a sacred space,
moving us beyond
our tears, our fears,
into the quiet side
of our hearts
where poetry is born.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, revised 2018, ancient skies, originally posted July 2017
Branches and leaves from the weeping willow tree bending
yet, still holding the sun in place
filtering
light, randomly sprinkled
on the surface of the water,
my spirit was lifting
in the beautiful silence
hovering over the river,
I could see through it
when I realized I did have a line
to write, was it a poem?
or a prayer?
I will have to ask the river
once again.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
Green leaves reflecting through noble trees,
as the ducks paddle quietly
and in a deep breath
light speaks
assuring us that beauty
is the strength we carry
in this world.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, and revised 2018, ancient skies
As I look out the window My Love, I can see our reflection in the water
shimmering, as the sun smiles, as if heaven does care,
whether we are happy.
My Love, we have found each other
our two souls moving beyond
the surface floating,
yet tangibly together,
you and I.
Note this was written about an anniversary get away, and based on a poem posted July, 2016
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
There was some prayer within his deliverance,
as witnessed by the hawk,
but it was mostly the river
bending
drifting
into his spirit,
beyond the oak trees
and dogwoods.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
Memories of our most sacred moments will often find their way,
drifting,
into our hearts
with our void seeking,
as if sunlight sparkles
on the surface of the ocean,
filtering
through the deep.
I wonder
if we are more than waves
rolling towards the shore,
curling
into a magnificent spirit,
crashing
then washing the Earth.
It is the light isn’t it?
That moves us beyond
the pain,
into the new hope shifting
taking shape
within us.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
