poetry, fiction, nature, culture, compassion, love
Random snowflakes mix with the rain pounding
on our roof,
dancing off the pavement
as the wind stirs
the pine trees.
I pull back from the window
and I realize
it’s time for my favorite book,
and a cup
of Irish breakfast tea.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
The measure of who we are as people cannot be seen
by the depth of our scars
but in the quality of our journey,
and the strength
of our spirit.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
Sometimes barely a thread connects my spirit to wordflow
and yet I find my voice surprising me
in a snow covered forest,
as if the wind was whispering
my name, and somehow knew me
more than I ever thought possible.
And so I write these few lines
hoping and praying
that a poem lives within.
Listen……do you hear your own whispers?
they’re swirling in the snow
and the wind.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies
In our peace, our eyes fill with visions of wordflow
drawing from beyond our ownselves attached,
connected seeking the eternal.
Poems or maybe prayers
without words shaping themselves
into a beauty
we can all understand.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
The beauty of winter lives not only in the gentleness
of a morning snowfall
but in our hearts, carrying peace
considering joy,
and the spirit
of giving.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
With our heart songs, with those unspoken prayers,
we shape and reshape the pliable scars
until, there’s a viable spirit
once again, for ascending
for some pulling down of heaven
to us
creating the hope for our art,
for our children
a future
we can believe in.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
In our walk, within our journey
it’s so easy to lose sight
of the sunlight and joy,
yet may the rain
and the pain
not destroy us
but cleanse us,
and renew.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
