Opening Up the Sky


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


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


Mister Coyote

In the pre-dawn light of deep blue, Coyote slithered through,

quietly making his way through the underbrush. When he saw the strange human on top of the ridge,

the human was bathed in the first rays of light, Coyote decided to hold his piece, to stay quiet knowing the sky would soon be open

and heaven would be poured out. Because this human had his arms outstretched

face tilted towards the sky, singing, praying, talking to God

all at the same time. Yes, Coyote did slink away back to his burrow.

And when the sky did open, pouring down the rain, Coyote heard the strange human singing

even louder, so Coyote closed eyes and went back to sleep. He knew heaven

was not something to be trifled with.


Poetry © Copyright 2018, ancient skies, Image from Vermont Public Radio

The Winter Sun


The winter sun follows me now, as I make my way through the woods

waking up the bare limbs, moving slightly with the wind speaking,

whispering true, that shadows never bind us,

and that the cold air

is a strong arm – against the night.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

In the Midst of the Mystical Forest


The latest from my fiction site The Mystical Forest:

It was as if the two of them were floating, traveling within their dreams. In the bright sunlight, they felt themselves moving high above the treetops, and heading towards the Great Sea. The sea and the sky became one, clouds and water within a mist, washing them.

They were lost in this other world, but it was not unpleasant. Floating brought peace, and there was no time here, just the moving through the mist of blue and water. But as they moved through this other world, the sun pierced through, and began shining on their faces. And as they returned to their bodies, the warmth brought back their spirits, and woke them, as if from a very deep sleep….


You can find the rest of the story, It Was the Sun that Them Brought Back here:

 Thanks for reading!


Writing and Image © Copyright 2016, Ancient Skies

The Hobbit’s House


They say that Hobbits don’t live here in these woods anymore, but I know differently. I never would have believed it, if I had not seen it for myself, with my own eyes.

One day I was deep, deep in the woods, and off the beaten path, when the forest began to change. I somehow knew instantly where I was, pressing through the sacred mist, moving to the right – passing the rocks that sing. Finally I came to the living trees, the ones that wave, moving their branches and moaning in order to scare people. They always do that.

I smelled the smoke of the Hobbit’s village, but it was not the smell of a normal fire. It did not smell of meat burning, it was more of a sweet smell, perhaps like cedar. And there it was – dozens of trees like this one. I knew right away that the Hobbit’s now lived this way, having abandoned a more conventional home in order to hide themselves better. I saw no one though, which was a bit unnerving.

Everything was strange – but I was not afraid – until I heard the whispering. I looked at their campfire, which was down to embers now, and then searched the forest with my eyes. It seemed as though hundreds of eyes stared back at me, and they started moving towards me.

I took the picture above quickly, as my proof and took off, never looking back. I ran past the living trees in a flash, the rocks that sing, and through the sacred mist. I never stopped running until I got back to the main road, grateful for civilization again.

I leave these words only as a warning. Please be careful when you are in the deep woods – you never know what you might find.


Writing and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“When we love people, we give them hope.”