The Legend of Wind Walker

Many say her spirit still lives on the mountain, and some have seen her spirit when the pine trees are bending. She’s an ancient presence.

Her breath to this day carries power in her songs. And her name was changed in the days when the sun became brighter, from First Woman….to Wind Walker.

It’s true she mourns her people in her songs, yet even more she sings of the healing of all nations. The victory of the Earth, over death and destruction.

Do you hear her in the wind?

Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

The Wind River People

In the days when wolves were still the Elders, two of the forest creatures sought their advice. They were Hawk in the Sky and Songbird. Yes, they were birds but the two of them were so very different they could not understand the love they felt for each other.

Hawks you see are not friendly to other birds. Yet when the Elders met with them, their direction was very clear. An Elder female wolf spoke it best. “It is good and natural for you to be attracted to each other…..continue as you are. Be at peace and be committed to each other…..”

This mystical union produced a great number of children. Eventually and over time some of them became humans or close to it. And this is how the first humans were formed, running wild and free, some having wings and filled with the winds of heaven.

This was all along the Wind River region, the birthplace of all creatures. And by the way, most leaders in those days whether wolves, hawks, or humans were…..female.

The Elders could see very early on that females were usually smarter, and much less prone to violence.

And the hawk on my shoulder tells me this natural order will soon be restored. Men having ruined the Earth, and in their violence….destroying each other.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Writing of the Wind

Writing of rivers he knew so well, yet writing of the wind, who can say? Who can describe the clouds

above our ruins? His hawk knew the way, speaking of peace carried on wingtips

yet a stronger wing does not always lift the wordflow….

he simply prayed, and his pen

wrote the fire.

Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Mystical Snowstorm

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As I watch from the back of our a house, a mystical snowstorm embraces, engulfs the top of the mountain,

following the ridgeline, wind howling, raging into swirls, some sleet falling, tearing

at the bare limbs of the forest, and I wonder can there be any beauty in the middle of a storm?

Or should we expect the fire of an ancient prophet, or maybe visions of a flaming sword?

A few minutes later a quiet snow descends, reaching our neighborhood, as the wind moves softly now,

and God speaks, this time using the pine trees.

           

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Note: We can see the mountains from where we live. Storms begin there and move in our direction.

Soon it Will Be Christmas

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A cold wind descends, blowing through the pine ridge,

coming down from the mountain

sloping, traveling down over the  boulders

and into the valley,

causing young and old

to sink further down

into their blankets, as they lay sleeping, 

dreaming of bells on sleighs

and gifts under the tree

for soon, it will be…..

Christmas.

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies