August’s Forest

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The comforting dark of August’s forest made it easy to slip

through to the world unseen,

and I was spirit, as if in a dream,

not of false rainbows but of peace,

an amazing depth

I had never known before,

where silence takes us

beyond bravery

as light flickers

through the trees.

      

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Gateway

20160709_140207When he was young he didn’t know very much, yet he could sense the forest holding his prayers,

and that all streams led to the ocean, with the depth of his spirit flowing,

and he loved how the leaves sang in a gentle rain, with birdsong never ceasing.

He was thrilled with the idea, that he was connected…..to a gateway, of a world unseen.

    

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

How it All Began

20190427_101241He was just 17 when he first started searching for his spirit, deep in the cool darkness of the woods.

With light streaming occasionally, he always found the shadows of wings in the stillness,

not quite a ghost. And water falling through rocks brought calm, balm for his soul,

until a crow bursted with noise, offended by his presence. He could sit for hours on the large rock,

by the rope swing, especially in winter listening to the silence of the snowfall….

that’s really how it all began. Soon he would study the tribes, including the Lakota and Cheyenne.

     

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Ghosts Often Keep Silent

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In the mist, in the density of fog, ghosts often keep silent

taking away even the joy

of birds chirping

preferring a silent forest,

yet keeping their presence

their shadows as they

blip

in and out, waiting

saving the scare

for tourists with too much cologne

and clean,

expensive tennis shoes.

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

The Prayer Stone

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In search of the prayer stone this morning, there were no ancient sages whispering mystical words from the dark corners of the forest.

And the sun was dull at times, as clouds ceased the calling of flowers, even their strength was diminished. Shadows prevailed.

I closed my eyes, waiting…..and then a glimpse of a word. So I decided to write a poem today…..after all.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Opening Up the Sky

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When I was a boy, my bow was only made of plastic, but I could fire those arrows way up, so far, so far

into the blue that you could not see them anymore, lost

in the clouds until they descended suddenly

deep into the Earth as if an offering

received. Nobody knew

but I was a Crow warrior back then

simply opening up

the sky.

More beginnings.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

The Day When Thunder Was Born

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Back in the day when thunder was born and lightning let go of the shaking,

we did run with the wolves shoulder to shoulder,

through the forest bending

while the Earth felt our ascending.

Until that day – when violence

entered the world causing

our separation.

Yet some wolves still howl today

lamenting, longing

for their human brothers running.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies