poetry, fiction, nature, culture, compassion, love
In the early morning light, leaves speak of peace
and a gentle rain
while a bumble bee hovers
watching me, as if I was intruding.
A chipmunk darts, when a pair of wings opens
and hops from one tree limb to another, hopeful.
“Will you release your prayer?” the crow seems to say,
I realize in the early morning light, of the deep forest…..
it is time.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
Dreaming of words quietly spoken,
echoes from the two
our hearts made alive
through whispers
in the reflection
of twilight.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
“Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul alike.”
John Muir
Allow yourself to drink in the strength
of our spring air,
and the time
for your spirit
to breathe, to become
quiet again.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
As the March wind blew through the pine trees,
I held on to my hat and realized
I love walking in the wildness,
the tossing of tree limbs,
the roar of spirit
within in the abandonment of ice,
and the freedom we call
spring.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies
In the dance for his people, feet pounding twirling, left shoulder down, feathers jerking, he was the heartbeat of the earth,
head tilted to the left then the right, leaning in, spinning with blurred vision
he became red rocks, he became canyons of rivers raging, with ancient memories,
with power in his feathers, he remembered when they protected
the women and children, from dog faced soldiers hiding spears,
until the sun broke through the great trouble.
He was more than the dance,
he had blended
with the spirit of his people.
Poetry © Copyright 2019, ancient skies, image of Apache dancer from indiancountrytodaymedianetwork
A closer walk within the wind, discovering the pre-dawn of winter
where prayers guide us through
the stillness of trees
gifting our spirits
with a sense of quiet,
a stronger muscle,
and lungs unafraid to breathe
through all our questions.
It is winter
and our boldness will see us through.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
The sacred songs of crickets seem softer now
as a quiet presence
moves through the forest
trees tuck in, surrounded
by cooler air,
conserving energy
for the greater glory,
the peace and brilliance
of each leaf
transforming.
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies
