The Legend of the Lone Wolf

In the beginning of all things there was only the lone wolf, having been made by the moon and the sun.

He carried our world gently between his teeth, yet there were earthquakes and storms as he wandered our galaxy, running through stars.

He let our world go, setting us in place. And when the Earth settled he  made humans from sticks and some mud.

At first the lone wolf was happy with humans, seeing us playing, enjoying the Earth,

but he saw our hearts turn to darkness some of us ripping the Earth and hurting each other.

He was sorry that he made humans.

He ran away lamenting, howling even.

To this day, if you listen closely

you can even hear him…..

in the wind.

 

Note: Influenced by Native American/First Nations stories

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

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 Wind Coming Down from the Mountains

As the winter storm roared through the trees, thunder rumbled rolling

through the valley, having been sent down the side of the mountain,

and I realized our spirits are so fragile, we often sense

the loneliness of the wind, with snowflakes swirling,

and yet inside our cocoons, we acknowledge the safety

and that God was never angry, even though

He probably does live in the wind

coming down

from the mountains.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

The Wind Spirit

Back in the day, when the Lakota still carried power in their feathers they would call on the Wind Spirit to protect them from the sharp eyes of their enemies.

The Wind Spirit would howl, blowing in a ferocious storm so that not even the hawks could see the lodges of the people, barely seeing the pine trees through the snow.

And the Wind Spirit continued to howl until all fear was gone having been breathed through, the nostrils of the Lakota ponies.

 

Writing and Image © Copyright 2019 ancient skies

The Journey of Your Light

Don’t bury your pen just yet my brother, my sister

the journey of your light has just begun

and there are still songs

that need to be written,

and still music

in your heart

from the mountains.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies

Walking with the Shadows

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 an Earlier Time

In an earlier time, America was covered with forests, except for the Great Plains

and swamplands of Florida. People grew their own food, with nuts

and berries, and some corn, and as they loved each other, loved

their communities, taking care of each other, they were able

to spread their wings, taking in the Creator breathing,

and they were encouraged by the sun. It was

a beautiful time really,

simply beautiful.

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies