poetry, fiction, nature, culture, compassion, love
As the leaves fly, high up on the ridge, swirling
in late autumn, the bears within
our spirits, lose their hold,
claws releasing
as a oneness returns pulling us
back into peace,
with the smell pine trees
and the healing of the cold air.
We can walk even further now.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
A dragonfly buzzes close to me,
then glides back into the woods,
as I continue through the shadows, and sun
the trail opens up by the lake,
and I can sense now,
that I was never alone.
Note: I hope you have enjoyed the Mountain Walking series. I love writing this way.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
A twig snaps under my foot, as I stop in mid-stride
a crow drops noisily on a large branch,
bouncing, looking, inspecting
my progress, while I let my foot down
gently. I stand remembering
the First People,
Crow, they were called
and that chief,
named Standing Bear. Shadows
moving through the trees,
leaving only feathers –
the crow hides quietly
this time on a taller branch,
perhaps there was a ghost
brushing
against the ferns.
I start walking again, silently
with shadows blending.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
In the mountains where eagles live,
a lone hiker stops, to tie his boots again
as he lays his walking stick down,
he watches
a mother bear, teach her cubs
that blueberries really are good
for food.
And as the clouds drift
chipmunks scatter under the brush
running for their burrows
having seen a shadow
of wings.
And the hiker continues
with a renewed strength,
as he picks up
his walking stick.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies
I went walking in the woods yesterday, (yes it was cold) and I was amazed at the lighting and lines of the trees. Here are a few samples. I think next time I will try black and white. There is a short poem at the end.
Pretending to be dead but very much alive,
their roots cannot be defeated, breathing
through the soil, waiting for the right time
to burst with life and color, and air
for us to breathe.
Writing, Poetry and Images © Copyright 2016, ancient skies
Peace and blessings to everyone.
“When we love people, we give them hope.”
Hope is a trail we need to follow
no matter how badly our boots are worn
the trail does get dark when we go through disasters
but if we keep walking, keep pushing forward
we can empty our backpacks, our heavy load.
Unloading the worry and fear, filling up on the nourishment
of earth and sky, will always keep us moving,
keep us going forward, strengthening
no matter how badly our boots are worn.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2015, ancient skies
Peace and blessings to everyone.
“If you love nature, you will love people.”
Cold air, blowing on my forehead,
sweating,
telling my lungs to live,
taking in the brisk,
the crispness,
underneath a cotton sweatshirt.
Jeans marching,
buffeting the leaves,
over tennis shoes hopeful,
gliding over the mountain trail.
Spirit soaring,
pausing to dwell,
with the eagles,
grateful to be alive,
with the owls sleeping,
in the daylight sun,
the autumn,
seeing with sharp eyes,
the yellow and orange,
living again.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree
Peace and blessings to everyone.
“If you love nature, you will love people.”
