writing poetry – Rivers Renewed

Wind in the Leaves

Wind in the leaves brings healing

to my spirit,

yet, with this size wound

will I be able

to recover?

We all go through tough situations, all of us. Sometimes though the wounds become just too much.

I’m there now. My wife is ok, although she’s still getting treatments. I won’t go into details, but I am in need of healing. I’ve always been open and honest, so there it is.

The poet needs healing.

It may be days, or weeks, I don’t know. I may share some previous work until then.

If you ever get a message saying this is a private site it just means the break will be extensive.

I have two sources I go to for internal healing: nature and love. Yes of course there is God and faith but for me that is the love part.

I’m convinced God doesn’t have an AR-15.

And there’s my wife. She’s my best friend in the whole world.

So thank you for understanding, maybe the internal healing will come much sooner than I know. One can hope.

Blessings,

Nico

P.S. If you want to contact me try my email on gmail at nicodemasplusthree.

Wind Poems

And on that day I awakened to the wind declaring my spirit was not quite done yet,

and even in the light before the dawn, each heart is filled with poetry,

a love unimaginable.

And the pine trees swayed

with amen.

Somehow I Remember

Somehow I remember that light, flickering through the trees

with moments of phrases awakening,

and in breathing again, I let the wordflow go

through me,

inspired by the Earth,

and Sky.

Amazed by Our Journey

No I’m no mystic, just a writer seeking more than mist, the tossing and shaping of words, by channels of the sea

I walk, and I am alone again….. seeking and perhaps that’s the danger of wordsmithing,

forever a quest, will we allow the heart to be open enough, risking?

Or do we cloud walk only long enough to use the heart?

I think of it more now, maybe as enjoying our gift

flowing, then becoming amazed

by our journey,

As a Poem or a Prayer

I actually wrote a poem today, asking God about the rain,

He wasn’t angry, but there was more in the wind,

than simply conversation. In the silence

of the heart, it became alive living,

as a poem,

or a prayer.

English Breakfast Morning

Not exactly an early morning, as our bodies are lulled to rest with an early summer rain.

And as I listen at my desk to the rain dripping from the leaves, I take another sip

of English Breakfast Tea,

and start writing

of renewal.

Note: The photo is of a museum.

Listening to the Water

Listening, as I drift over the water…. my spirit knows where it was born from and yet I reach

into and across the blue, lit by the sun, free from damaged wings and what used to be

I can see so clearly now and the space has been made for blending

my wordflow shaping who I am now, with words.

The Scent of Water and Trees

There is a warm breeze now, slowly pushing its way over the lake,

holding a scent of water and trees, coming to rest

on my face. I look up seeking the revelation of sky in my life

never ending yet within my soul, I reach

for the pen that’s filling itself once again.

I marvel at words, trying not to gasp

holding the photograph

in my mind, I begin again

to write.

Winding River of Poetry

As spring meanders into summer with a slow drifting, so our wordflow shapes the words

moving into phrases, shaping then into poems and the winding river of poetry begins

flowing onto our pages, we bring

the uplifting of our spirits.

Blog Celebration

I’m very proud to announce, that of this writing my blog has more than 2,900 posts here! Wow. Can you believe it? I can hardly believe it myself. It didn’t happen overnight!

Some time ago I mentioned that this site is maxed out, completely full. Did you know there is a limit of memory on each site? I made some room and now it is full again.

Rivers Renewed to the MAX!

I’ve decided to share some of these beautiful posts, from years ago. For example 2017 was a great year! For the next few weeks I’ll be celebrating with classic poetry along with new work, while I’m renovating, which means cataloging, archiving, and making more room.

I will be retiring from blogging sometime in the future, maybe even later this year. Yet every time I consider retiring, I find more inspiration. Maybe that’s the way writing should be.

Thank you so much for reading!

Wishing you peace.

Category: writing poetry