The Healing of the Cold Air

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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

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As the Trail Opens Up by the Lake

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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

Walking with the Shadows

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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

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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

Winter Trees

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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.

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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

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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

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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.”