The Survivors V – We Belong

A fishing line, complete with hook and bobber flew into the air, landing finally into the water with a plop. Then Grey threw his into the air, with his good arm but his line didn’t go nearly as far. He was still nursing wounds from being attacked by wolves.

They had followed the creek which flowed into the river. The river water always seeming to hold a deeper yet softer song.

“I can’t believe you thought of fishing poles and a tackle box! Is there anything you don’t have stored in the lodge?” Grey was a lot freer with conversing ever since their talk yesterday about sex. Brie explained, “It all came from my Grandfather’s place….wait….I got another one!” she started reeling it in like a pro.

That made 3 for her, to his 1. All of them trout. After she dehooked the fish and dropped it in their bucket, Grey asked, “Do we really have 2 years’ worth of food stored?” Brie nodded, “Almost, thanks again to my Grandfather. His cabin is about 20 miles north of here….in bear country.” “I got one!” It was Grey’s turn now.

After they had enough fish, they sat and talked for a while. Baby Bluejay was awake but still quiet, tucked in her harness. When Grey asked about her tribe, Brie hesitated and looked sad. “There aren’t any tribes….not anymore.” He hadn’t thought of that.

“There’s something much more important than our bloodlines though”, Brie said with a serious look. “I’m a Lodge Maker. I learned it from the Mandan. And you? When were you going to tell me, you were a Bow Maker?”

To be honest, he had forgotten to tell her, but how did she know? Brie continued, “Do you realize how important all this is? We are starting over you and I, and we belong here! A Lodge Maker and a Bow Maker brought together, that’s not just a coincidence.”

Grey was thoughtful and nodded silently. He sighed and when he breathed out he added, “We have to get rid of the guns anyway…. they’re not safe around the children….”

Brie just looked at him…. with a sly smile.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Thank you so much for reading!

The Survivors IV – Guns and Sex

From the Apocalyptic Journal – 83 years from now.

In the foothills before the mountains, the earthen lodge wasn’t even visible. Even the cooking fire could be mistaken for mist from the stream, flowing into the river. In the lodge baby Jay was sleeping.

“Ok, the shotgun is ready!” Why was he yelling? All he had done was cleaned it, now wiping it down with an oily rag. What was it about men and guns? Ridiculous. He didn’t realize it, but Brie was thinking the same thing.

They sat outside, across from each other in the morning sun, today was weapons cleaning and inventory day. He reached for a .38 caliber revolver to clean it, the kind the police used in the old days. He loved the way the chamber spun.

“Grey…” She had taken to shortening his new name and he loved that…. especially when she said it softly, like now. He looked up, putting down the .38. “Can I ask you a personal question?” Uh oh, he thought. This sounded serious. He nodded and she asked, “Why haven’t you made a move on me?”

He looked perplexed, “Made a what??” “Made a move on me….you know….S.E.X.” Did she really need to spell it out? It got worse because she continued with, “When you first saw me, isn’t that what you thought about?”

He looked at her silently, which for her was excruciating. She waited.

“No, not at all”, he said flatly.

“What then?” she asked. He shifted and recrossed his legs. “I was thinking, thank God for a human being that was alive and well!” Tears welled up in his eyes. “And I was thinking, thank God there is someone I can talk to and not go insane. It took me 4 months to get out to this wilderness and I hadn’t seen anyone!”

Ok note to self she thought, this guy has a heart, not like the slime bags she had known. A few tears did make it down his cheeks, but he wiped them away quickly.

That night was the first night they slept next to each other. Nothing happened, but they both felt a need….just to be close.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

The Survivors III – New Name

From the Apocalyptic Journal – 83 years from now.

It was one of those warm summer days where the refreshing creek soothed every part of them. They sat together just listening. Even baby Jay seemed calmed by the sounds of the water, and the smell of the it in the air. It had been 10 days since her daughter was born, and Brie was still amazed by this wonder of new life. Jay was strapped on the front of her.

He was quiet and his face was reflecting the sunlight dancing on the water. A fish jumped. He was convinced that fish would someday soon be dinner. There was no war anymore, and death seemed distant in this peace. A mother deer and her fawn approached the creek, on the other side, and upwind from where they were sitting. They both watched while baby Jay slept quietly.

“I hate hunting.” It was Brie breaking the silence in a whisper. “I only hunt in order to survive.” He silently nodded his head with understanding. And that was one thing she liked about him, he never really said much but he understood her. There was always that silent, gentle strength too.

“And we need to find you a new name.” She said in her normal voice having already scared the mother deer and fawn away. “What’s wrong with my name?” She looked at him with that “you should know this” look and said, “You know how I feel about missionaries…..how they treated my people.” There it was again, the silent head nod of understanding. “I get it” he said.

Baby Jay stirred and Brie figured it was almost time for a feeding. Brie shifted, deciding she knew the name…. “Grey Wolf…..that’s what we should call you!” “What?? I was nearly killed by wolves!” “Yes, but grey is my favorite color….and to be honest it suits you.” Suddenly Brie began a sly smile, “And besides, your name will remind you…. that I saved your life.”

H’mm, he liked that a lot, and he told her so.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Ghosts Will Reappear

Within the deep fog of the final days, ghosts will reappear with the smell of buckskin

and burning wood in the air, showing us how to make lodges, and the sacred art

of bow making, giving us the wisdom of medicine, and the harmony

of all things will flow in our veins once again,

so that the deep fog will no longer

need to hide us, anymore.

                                                                                                       

Note: This is part of the Apocalyptic Journal.

   

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Happy Easter, Happy Passover

To all those celebrating Easter today – Happy Easter!

And I have a number of Jewish friends so – Happy Passover!

May you be wonderfully blessed during this very special time of year.

And if you don’t celebrate either day, may you also be blessed this spring,

as we all behold the beauty of the earth reborn. May hope live in our hearts.

By the way, did you know that the Last Supper was actually a Passover Seder? It’s true!

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies

The Rebirth of the Earth

Weep not for the soil overturned,

a sweet, delicate renewal

since the most ancient of times

confirming our calling

to pick berries in the fields

we are strengthened,

we are filled

as our spirits

reconnect.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies

Father Sky, Mother Earth

Father Sky, Mother Earth

an eternal love,

a yearly birth.

Spring redeems

her children.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies

I Love the Wildness in the Wind

I love the wildness in the wind, buffeting

as it roars

through the pine trees,

threatening us with snowflakes swirling,

moving the branches of the oak trees

as if to say winter never left

us at all.

I simply smile remembering

the flowers, and the light rain

that washes us,

and the brightness

of the sun that embraces us,

the new life born again, after

the wildness in the wind.

   

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies

It Was Spring Now

She walked in the green fields now remembering the curves

of her hand in his, and those times he gave her

a wildflower to tuck

behind her ear,

with the smell of trees

and the beautiful deluge

of robin song,

it was spring now

and she dreamt

of smelling his neck

and the protection

of his umbrella

as they discovered the earth

all over again,

walking in the park.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2018, ancient skies

In the Year 2154

If we are still alive, will it be any better? or will the earth groan under the weight

of our hostility? When the soil is depleted, our food will come from the sea,

 where millions will seek to be washed of their anger, and to return

with a sense of the beginning – to return to being human

once again. Perhaps it is not too late

to start over. At least

we hope and pray so.

       

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, Ancient Skies