Ancient Skies

Peace Be Still

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On that day, when he most needed it

coming from within the depths,

a voice…

from the most ancient of days,

saying…

“Peace,

be still.”

Note: Based on the Book of Psalms.

The Promise of Blue

100_1123 On those days when the wind gets knocked out of me, I remember the sea.

Pine trees swaying on the shoreline, with my sails full….I journey seeking the promise of blue,

and the adventure

of tomorrow.

In My Love’s Eyes

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I find the universe in My Love’s eyes,

the earth,

the oceans

and skies.

Writer’s Wings

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Even when I’m folding my wings I’m very aware

of the wordflow waiting…

phrases seeking

another river,

another poem

from within my heart.

I’m grieving like many of you over the deadly racism in the United States.

Do we have a right to criticize other nations? It’s a sin really from our very beginning.

And I also grieve for how the far-right is ripping us apart. Caring more for their assault rifles than they do for people.

Closer to home my wife needs further treatments for cancer. The last round was not enough.

There will be more aggressive, more invasive treatments and that means more horrible side effects.

And we had a cousin die recently…..from cancer. This was the cousin that had the big family gatherings every year…

for Thanksgiving and Christmas. We’ve eaten at their home many times. He was in his forties, married with children.

I’ve shared these things because I’ve had the wind knocked out of me like I wrote in yesterday’s poem.

No, I don’t feel a need to stop blogging. I still have plenty of wordflow…….somewhere, but I’m grieving.

I just need some restoration, with my wings folded.

Ocean Meditations II

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The rhythym of the waves speaking to who we truly are,

we are spirit

and in the quieting of our inner life

we remember

it was not always this way,

there truly was a connection.

And I realize now

the oceans cleanse us

from who

we were never meant to be,

restoring us,

so amazingly.

Silver Threads

20180930_123823 Silver threads of the lake at dawn,

with whispers of deliverance

to awaken,

to transform the grey

to a startling blue,

and the beginning

of birdsong.

Gentle Radiance

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The gentle radiance of soft petals, reflecting

the light of the sun

give us so much courage,

so much hope,

that darkness is defeated

every single time.

The Sacred Feather

100_1051 It wasn’t until he was near the top of the ridge that he distinctly heard a set of wings, it was unmistakable…

so he looked up into the brightness of the sun. He saw nothing…but felt the presence of wings.

Was it an eagle’s spirit, or an angel? He couldn’t tell. And then one single white feather, tinged with grey came floating down,

landing on his shoulder, and for some reason he felt….well protected. Then he remembered,

that feathers could be held as sacred…..he carried that feather in his hand to the top of the mountain,

then he closed his eyes, whispering a prayer. He didn’t know it then, but a very large shadow of wings covered him……

so completely.

Each Moment with My Love

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Each moment with My Love, on the park bench, listening

to the music of water,

surrounded

by layers of leaves,

we whisper

sweet talk absorbed,

into the dogwood trees.

Seeking that Place

20160418_122232 Bluejays sang their most sacred songs in the highest branches of the tallest trees,

while the blue sky shifted and white clouds followed that rugged trail,

he ascended, heart full of burdens seeking that place, that place where God lived, or least

it seemed that way, to the top… on the largest of rocks, where everything could be seen,

that special place of a calmness where violence was always rejected, and light….could be tangibly felt.

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