poetry, fiction, nature, culture, compassion, love
It was in the winter when I first began walking,
seeking the journey of a quiet spirit,
the healing of silence in the woods,
the wholeness of a snowfall
in the purity of cold air.
And still today
the wisdom of a young man’s heart
can defend, provide a light
for this old guy to follow.
Winter still speaks.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
Evergreens, standing tall in the blue twilight
of the winter sky,
centurians of fir, spruce and pine trees
lingering in a scent of Christmas
guarding, watching over
the silence
of the snow covered forest.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
As the sun sets, after the storm
something similar to hope
can be born,
a tangible presence
in the winter sky.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
Winter enfolding, with layers of peace descending,
in the silence of snowfall
we move beyond the rage,
ready now for our time
of quiet reflection.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
He squinted his eyes against another attack by the icy wind. The snow tore sideways now, containing small chips of sleet, he shrunk his neck even further down into his parka,
with one hand holding onto his hat. He was tired of this roar and rage of winter, the daily fight with the wind.
But he was a tough ole guy and on this day he leaned in, lifting up a prayer, thankful that he had a job to go to,
which meant they both had the medical coverage they needed so desperately.
No ugly wind would ever take his wife. He was a tough ole guy still fighting, the roar and rage
of winter.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
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
A closer walk within the wind, discovering the pre-dawn of winter
where prayers guide us through
the stillness of trees
gifting our spirits
with a sense of quiet,
a stronger muscle,
and lungs unafraid to breathe
through all our questions.
It is winter
and our boldness will see us through.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
