Where the Sky was Once Blue Part II – 18+

I was trying to wake up, but I kept dreaming of green fields in the sunlight below mountains, of rivers overflowing feeding oak trees and the willows. Cold air in the autumn. Mari was there dancing in the field, and Fernando was planting pine tree seedlings.

A few minutes later brushing my teeth brought me to my senses, while Mari was singing in Spanish, in the shower. Once she was done, she snuck up behind me, barely covered in a towel… as I watched her hands in the mirror reach for my belly. “I know a reason you and I are together”, she whispered.

“Don’t do it!” I said loudly. Too late. “It’s because we both have bellies!!” And she shook my tummy, laughing her head off, running away. I rinsed quickly, about to chase her, but when I looked up she was sitting on the edge of the bed, towel discarded, her jet black hair still dripping wet and falling over her shoulders, as she questioned me with her smile.

Uh-oh.

We never did make it down for breakfast. But by lunch time I had placed some grilled cheese sandwiches in a pan. I was slow cooking them so the cheese would melt. Fernando was at the table reading a book on sweetgrass, so I asked him if he wanted a grilled cheese. “No I’m making burgers in the basement.” “The basement?” I wondered if Mari knew.

Mari came down adding an explanation. “Fernando has his own kitchen downstairs…. actually two, one for food and one for plant science.” She added, “his burgers are plant based…” Eyeing my work she said, “Oh yum! Grilled cheese with cheddar. I’ll make the salad! By the way we have 4 levels of basement” “What??”

When we sat down to eat, “Mari said, “Hold out your arm honey”. I did but wondering why. She quickly held out hers. “Look”, she said “We are both brown…so that’s the real reason I think Emma placed us together. She knew I couldn’t tolerate a white man’s—” “Ok, ok I get it!” I cut her off. “I get that… but listen, white people are not our enemy”.

Mari looked shocked. I continued by reaching over, touching her with one finger where I thought her heart was. “The problem is in here, not their skin color.” She said nothing but seemed to let something go. Then she said smiling, “I knew you were good for me… in more ways than one….” I felt her foot on my leg.

Mari’s phone began buzzing. She took it out, stood up immediately yelling, “Fernando!! Start the healing bath…. Make it on the 3rd floor and hurry! Emma’s hurt!!

She yelled at me to get the emergency blanket, as I looked out the window, I saw Emma flying in. All I could say was, “Oh no!!”

When we opened the front door, Emma was on fire.

“Oh dear God.”

“Her wings!”

Writing and Image © Copyright 2022 rivers renewed

Next Saturday: Does Emma survive her injuries? And what is the name of the main character/narrator? And do the dreams mean anything?

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Still Filled with the Wind

That injured wing, still filled with the wind and lifted her,

even with pain and dried blood she was carried

soaring into the clouds, aiming for the sun

not exactly refreshed but it was working

both wings were part of her now

looking down, she refused

any sense

of despair.

Poetry and Image Copyright © 2022 rivers renewed

The Survivors

From the Apocalyptic Journal – 83 Years from Now

He smelled wood burning but it was the tug on his chest that woke him up. Someone or something was pulling on his left bicep. And for some reason he couldn’t open his eyes.

“Hold still!” A woman’s voice pushed him back down again when he tried to sit up. He forced one eye partially open, “Stitches?” he asked. She must have pulled him away from the wolves, and she was stitching him up. He passed out again from the pain.

When he awoke, he was inside the earth……wait no……he was in an earthen lodge. The wind outside told him they were in the middle of a tenacious storm. She offered him a bowl of something warm. All she said was, “Drink.” He did, and it was smooth warmth going down. He tasted honey, ginger and lemon. Lemon? Where did she find a lemon?

She looked at him with a knife in her hands. waving it at him “I know you’re immune from the last disease, otherwise you wouldn’t be here….my name is Brie, and I think we should help each other…..but if you ever hurt me……you will be a dead man.” She meant it and he knew it. He tried to say he would never do such a thing…but he couldn’t speak it.

Her face was beautiful and round, but she had one scar on her right cheek. A knife fight? She had long black hair, and he realized she was from one of the tribes. She had the smell of buckskin and lavender.

“The drink will help you sleep……I’ll need your help in a few days, delivering.” It was only then he noticed she was very pregnant. He fell into a deep sleep……thinking that she was attractive, but he was worried about the knife……. at least he did know how a child is born……

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

The Dark Comfort

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When I write of the dark now, the enfolding, the pouring in of midnight, I’m not referring to evil, the seeking to destroy, the choking of our humanity, with talons extended,

or even of the darkness of our anointed narcissist, screaming so sadly of his insanity, supported by the prayers of some of the faithful, often confused, and sometimes worse…

no, I write of that dark comfort, stillness enfolding into us, like twilight wrapping us, holding us,

a silence of the heart…where we sometimes go, where stars live….still clinging to the night, watching over us,

over the deepest parts of us….causing even our scars to bow down, hoping for release,

like when birds awaken, praying, fighting sleep, to greet the dawn. It’s OK to go quiet during the rebirth of wings,

instead of leaving our spirits shredded, left in ruins. We don’t have to accept ourselves wearing a reality of dark wings trembling.

We do know the way, don’t we?

      

Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies

A Love Story

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She never trusted in the dark side so she took my hand instead,

I wasn’t exactly a knight, but she saw something within me she could believe in,

and she wasn’t exactly all flowers, but her heart carried a priestess within, filled with light,

I recognized some of her scars, and I knew her beginning was a hail storm,

we both knew, and became synced when I tried to capture her flag….she took mine instead,

before I even knew what had happened,

and we never quite reached the height of eagles, we were more like hawks,

but at least we were not crows, all noise and no substance,

we live with grey feathers now, carrying courage, healing each other, and……very much in love.

       

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Winds Changing

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In that day when warfare is the ruler, the sovereign thief

stealing, destroying what we do know,

our spirits will often lead us

into winds changing,

pulling us into the kingdom of blue skies,

into something new,

a sense of a spring forest

exploring, restoring and changing

who we are.

Not the wiser,

maybe not even stronger,

yet a new creation

in love with a sense of living…..

the journey

of a new adventure.

       

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Note: It’s ok if our faith changes due to the ruins of our lives. It’s really ok, and a very real part…… of our survival. It is ok.