The Wind Spirit

Back in the day, when the Lakota still carried power in their feathers they would call on the Wind Spirit to protect them from the sharp eyes of their enemies.

The Wind Spirit would howl, blowing in a ferocious storm so that not even the hawks could see the lodges of the people, barely seeing the pine trees through the snow.

And the Wind Spirit continued to howl until all fear was gone having been breathed through, the nostrils of the Lakota ponies.

 

Writing and Image © Copyright 2019 ancient skies

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Riding the Wind

Hey you know what? I’m having a great time writing, so thank you so much for being along for the ride!

This blog wouldn’t be any fun if it wasn’t for you! So thank you once again for your love and support.

I really love the diversity that can be found here. There are so many countries and ethnic groups that can be found. Awesome!

And I love where my work is right now, and I’m excited about where it’s going. “Coyote” and “Purple Dawn” were a bit of a breakthrough for me.

And I love your work! So let’s ride the wind together. Thanks again.

     

Writing and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies

It Was 11:30 PM

It was 11:30 PM when he made his last cup of coffee, stirring in the creamer while the rain pelted his kitchen window.

It was the wind that sent sheets of rain, lashing out in waves again and again. He was glad to be home.

It wasn’t much of an apartment but it was peaceful. Dimly lit, he kept only 2 lights on, like his father had taught him.

Should he read the paper? He headed for his chair. He realized nobody really read the paper anymore, did they? He decided instead to get out his travel book – the one on Ireland.

Someday he wouldn’t be working 18 hour shifts at the hospital anymore.

It was 12:10 AM when he fell asleep in his chair, the book still open on his lap, as he dreamed of a cottage by the sea. 

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies

I Love the Wildness in the Wind

I love the wildness in the wind, buffeting

as it roars

through the pine trees,

threatening us with snowflakes swirling,

moving the branches of the oak trees

as if to say winter never left

us at all.

I simply smile remembering

the flowers, and the light rain

that washes us,

and the brightness

of the sun that embraces us,

the new life born again, after

the wildness in the wind.

   

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies

In the January Wind

Pine trees never break in the January wind, instead bending

in their quiet resistance, and yet yielding

creating a stronger hope, they still hold on

to our prayers

even in the fury and wildness

of the January wind.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies

Opening Our Sails

Dreams of poetry are often a matter of opening our sails

allowing the wind to fill us, embracing the strength

of the unlimited ocean.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies

As I Spoke with God

As I spoke with God, in the wind and the snow

I had the overwhelming feeling

of eternity whirling, swirling

surrounding my spirit

of a voice calling

in the distance

as if only a thin veil

separated

heaven and earth.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies