
In the space of our democracy, in the heartbeat of our nation,
there is room for all people,
all colors,
and with different ideas.
Don’t let the extreme far right,
take that away.
VOTE.
Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies
In the space of our democracy, in the heartbeat of our nation,
there is room for all people,
all colors,
and with different ideas.
Don’t let the extreme far right,
take that away.
VOTE.
Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies
In each of hearts lives the love, the flow
to create another poem,
to write beyond
what have always known.
To bring healing, and
amen.
Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies
She always loved how he carried the Gift of Tigers…his roar
against the night, permeating
her being down to the bone,
his courage running through her veins,
never dominating.
And he loved the strength of her stride,
the ability to tread on serpents,
her supernatural smile,
how so often she could walk
through the fire of chemo and cancer,
while casting fear off both of them,
with the heart of a lion.
Gifted, both of them…
in each other’s love.
Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies
A forgotten wing was her redemption that day, riding the line, too close to despair. She needed the mountains.
She pulled the car over, got out and lifted her hand, wanting to split open the sky….
to see all the stars and suns of the night, to discover the unknown, the whirl
of the earth’s rotation. And maybe even find that lost soul of who she was before.
“Not strong enough just yet.” she said out loud……While she pulled the clouds away, unable to open the blue.
That forgotten wing did encourage her though, and she decided one day she would know who she was,
and she would dance in the galaxies, even in the middle of the day…..
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
The stronger heart has embraced surrender
to the power and wholeness of love,
as if each river was a washing
of our eyes restoring
our vision
so that our spirits can truly see
and soar
even beyond
our most devastating of ruins,
confident,
really knowing
all is not lost.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, revised 2020, ancient skies
Keep fighting and stay healthy!
And when he walked in with a bouquet of Christmas flowers,
she wrapped her arms around his neck,
placed her head on his shoulder, grateful
and they stood there for a long time holding on
silently praying for each other
and for the healing
of our nation.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
Lying and fear often make difficult lovers
and even worse neighbors,
preferring themselves instead
of another,
so we pull back
our tenderness don’t we?
At least until we feel safe again
we pretend not to care.
Yet within our scars
builds a determination
or something
vaguely seeming to be hope,
so we press forward again,
straight into the wind
and then
we go vote.
Note: Please remember to vote on November 6th. We need to each do our part to help stop the madness, and strife.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
The shadow of crow wings fall
on my shoulders
as a grasshopper takes off again,
from the tall grass,
a few more steps and the crow calls
as if to awaken me
looking up I realize
brother sun
is in both our eyes
filling us
with courage.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
As we pull onto the highway, she falls asleep again, head bobbing. I whisper, “Rest My Love, put your head back.”
She does fall asleep and I wonder, is this because she is awake at night, worrying? Or is it the treatment putting her to sleep?
Changing lanes, I do have a flash of fear, as I think of the magic marker and tape on and around her chest. So much has happened.
Somehow, and I don’t know how, a prayer is lifted up. It’s amazing how prayer is so easy to breathe in now.
As we pull into our neighborhood I whisper, “We’re home sweetheart….” She opens her eyes, and I notice how beautiful the Rose of Sharon are……this time of year.
Note: Thank you to everyone for your positive thoughts and prayers! If you did not know, my wife is fighting cancer again, and we have begun using the first weapon…… in the arsenal.
Poetry and All Images © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
Don’t bury your pen just yet my brother, my sister
the journey of your light has just begun
and there are still songs
that need to be written,
and still music
in your heart
from the mountains.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies