Hope Begins to Fill My Eyes

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With wings outstretched, tilting my head, then banking to the left I break the pattern, the shell encasing my sky,

refusing the bonds or to live in the darkness of being discouraged… hope begins to fill my eyes,

with new life until finally the horizon comes into view, and I am free.

Amen.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

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As the Wind Moves Over the Hawk’s Shoulder

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A solitary golden feather is lifted as the wind moves over the hawk’s shoulder.

Chipmunks are breathless as the mountains bask in the sunlight.

Yet the hawk spins his head towards a murmuring sound close by. A lone figure, praying in the shadows of the mountain.

Peace is seldom easy, so the hawk kept silent, honoring his descendants.

Weren’t humans descended from birds of prey?

   

Note: Influenced by Native American creation stories.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies

Over the Oceans

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When we cast our prayers over the oceans, will the waves remember us?

And will the wind be able to cleanse us pushing through our grey

shadows in order to bring the refreshing?

hopefully our words will catch wings ascending

beyond the clouds where our voice

will be heard, and our spirits

lifted. At least

we hope so.

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies