The Joy of Writing

I don’t know if you can tell but I’m having a great time writing! Isn’t that what writing and creating is all about?

I rarely post on Wednesdays now, but wanted to share an update. Some months ago, I said I was cutting back,

and slowly since then I’ve been posting a little bit more over a period of time. I doubt if I ever get back to once a day. Can you believe I used to post twice a day?

I have no idea how, because life is too busy. Yet 4-5 times a week seems doable. I usually post in the morning.

Rarely will you see one in the late afternoon from me (eastern standard time).

Thank you so much for reading!

Peace.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2020 ancient skies

Note: The horses above are actually wild horses. I used to ride horses when I was young.

The Colors Will Speak to Us

Within our survival, our wordflow can shift and change,

leaving us with a thin layer of grey,

yet the colors will speak to us….

calling forth that ancient mystery,

of poets pulling down inspiration,

from the sky.

Hope brightens

with the morning sun.

      

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Hopeful

As if a single strand, or a string of filtered light,

a small piece

pushing away the darkness

could actually save us….

we always look up,

sooner or later don’t we?

We were made to be hopeful…..

I’m sure of it.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Such a Beautiful Healing

Our hearts were never meant to be broken,

over and over again

our love fractured,

and yet spring

is such a beautiful healing,

moving us forward

each year

repairing our spirits.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies

Fresh Thunder by Zhang Wei Ping (translation)

This is Beautiful! Please see the original post, translated by Mary Tang.

On Eagle’s Wings

A poem is a prayer, sent on eagle’s wings

to encourage

and strengthen us.

And our words will lift us

carrying

our spirits, above and beyond.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

The Sweet Quiet River

They say the sands of time will erase our scars,

but the sweet quiet river is a healing

internal, flowing in the letting go,

and in the knowing

we are loved.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

The Baking of Bread

In the winter, bread baking means three things at our place,

that we are all home together, the festival of lights is near,

and that there is joy in celebrating,

the gift of light.

        

Poetry © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

image unknown artist via google

Especially Down By the Lake

We can see our breath now My Love, especially down by the lake,

and sometimes, when we close our eyes, I can see the fog

drifting quietly over the water, as if there is a voice

and the vacant trees are witnesses

as we take off our gloves

to hold

each other’s hand.

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

No Victory Without Love

As racism surges forward, may we all run with the wind

have the courage of lions, fight with the strength we’ve been given

and always use the armor and weapons of love.

There is no victory 

without love.

      

Poetry © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

image credit to original artist/s via google