What I remember most about the ocean is that you can let your spirit glide out over the surface of the water into infinity,
or is it that the infinity is within us? Either way, with the ocean and the rhythm of the waves, both are possible I think. And somehow
the concept of God
is unmistakable.
Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed
The space between our wounds, was always meant for the peace descending,
in the form of light.
Wholeness
in our spirit wings.
Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed
Softly and gently pieces of our heart song cling to the corners of snowflakes lingering, floating
phrases tossed and spun, in the velocity of the wind,
until
we remember.
Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed
What we used to know as peace descended last night,
bringing a tangible sense of silence
or at least a quiet to our hearts,
and a wordflow spun,
in the beauty
of the wind.
Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed
May our poems emerge from our wordflow,
shaping themselves to encourage
from the stillness
of our peace within.
Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
He was just 17 when he first started searching for his spirit, deep in the cool darkness of the woods.
With light streaming occasionally, he always found the shadows of wings in the stillness,
not quite a ghost. And water falling through rocks brought calm, balm for his soul,
until a crow bursted with noise, offended by his presence. He could sit for hours on the large rock,
by the rope swing, especially in winter listening to the silence of the snowfall….
that’s really how it all began. Soon he would study the tribes, including the Lakota and Cheyenne.
Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
As the winter fades, sacred are the winds
that carry new life to our ruins,
a pervasive warmth
a softer, gentler rain
washing away
our devastation.
We are hopeful now,
spring
is finding us.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
Rivers run deep within the poet’s heart
reaching out,
reaching in
writing down,
the wordflow unseen.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
When we walk down that path…..our journey celestial
a temple unseen awaits in our spirits
while white clouds drift over,
wisdom rides on light rays through shadows,
flickering in our minds
reminding us of our own humanity,
we take another step, accepting.
Guided by hawk wings,
or at least by their shadows,
flying over our shoulder……
we are encouraged
with the burden lighter,
our steps become quicker
as we embrace each path……
of our journey celestial.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
In each temple garden, in each heart opened,
a choice is made
to either seek light and pursue it,
or to only hide in the shadows
with nothing to say.
Is your temple speaking?
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
