The Forests Remember

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Every year the forests remember their calling,

to encourage, to inspire us,

freeing our minds, our hearts

with the sound of rustling leaves,

and their colors

breaking loose,

setting our spirits free.

   

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

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Her Future Glory

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It was a small flame, on a single tree leaning, as if she had been hiding

high in the mountains, on a cool crisp morning,

revealing only a part

of her future glory.

I smiled remembering her fire,

of yellow, gold, and red, so I breathed in

the leaves knowing

we would all be embraced soon,

by the brilliant fire

of autumn.

   

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

Walking with the Shadows

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A twig snaps under my foot, as I stop in mid-stride

a crow drops noisily on a large branch,

bouncing, looking, inspecting

my progress, while I let my foot down

gently. I stand remembering

the First People,

Crow, they were called

and that chief,

named Standing Bear. Shadows

moving through the trees,

leaving only feathers –

the crow hides quietly

this time on a taller branch,

perhaps there was a ghost

brushing

against the ferns.

I start walking again, silently

with shadows blending.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies