Writing with the Winter Wind

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I haven’t decided yet if I’m still a river, but in the winter I do seek to write, filled with the winter wind,

with a touch of sparkle glinting off the snow. I reach in, and out at the same time with at least a partial measure of spirit, or try to.

I find writing from the spirit to be more honest, shaping words from what we cannot see. Connecting.

I love writing, so thank you for reading my posts!

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Poems Whisper into Our Dreams

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As the winter moves in, just above the trees,

the night sky bends and surrenders

with a shimmer of snow

sparkling in the early daylight.

Another day is formed and planted

as poems whisper

into our dreams,

swirling in our sleep

with snowflakes. 

       

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies