
Early winter fog brings a comfort to my being,
realizing
God is in the mist,
guiding even
when I cannot see.
Poetry and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed
As the cold rain batters our windows, and the fog creeps in threatening
to steal our spring away, we know victory is not far from reach.
Redeeming the time, picking up our paper and pen,
to finish another chapter, we turn our pages
to a story – no one else can tell.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
Our destiny was never about living in the mist
being covered, confused by the fog,
we were meant to live in the mountains
following the light of our birth, always
moving forward and forgetting the pain
going higher still, the sun in our veins
breathing the air, with eyes filled
seeing the hope of the earth living.
So when the trail gets tough
or doesn’t make sense, remember
the sunlight, remember your destiny,
remember who you are, so that you can dance
on top of the mountain, being the person
you were meant to be.
Remember.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2015, ancient skies
Peace and blessings to everyone.
“When we love people, we give them hope.”
The ghosts whisper softly,
in the deep fog,
hoping for an end,
to the war against nature,
the war against color,
“all men are created…”,
they whisper to each other,
listening for signs,
of life.
Will the Creator be honored?
will there be a dawn of wholeness,
and peace?
hopeful,
they long to wake up,
their brothers and sisters,
and to see the restoration,
of all things.
But before the dawn, a storm,
cleansing,
from the poison,
of bad hearts.
And the ghosts still whisper,
in the deep fog.
Peace to everyone.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree
“If you love nature, you will love people.”