Giving Flowers

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In times of our deepest loss, tragic moments

never making sense

we don’t feel loved, do we? Perhaps

we offer our tears, our prayers

and some flowers,

as a source

of love

and strength.

   

Note: In addition to New York, our family is praying for some friends today, who lost their father, in a tragic accident.

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

Dreams of Beauty

Oceans 2215

You tell me you dream, of having your hair again

and I remember weeping

over the old photographs,

but now it’s Christmas, and the beauty

overwhelms us, heals the grief

so we can look to the future

with a strength,  we did not know before.

We are healed

and breathing love,

I think your dreams are beautiful

but not more beautiful than you,

so sit with me for a while,

and we can dream together,

looking at the lights,

as I reach for your hand.

         

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2015, ancient skies

Peace and blessings to everyone.

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

Turning it Around

Mountains and Rivers 226

I know a man that built a prison from the pain

the fear of losing her, that she would pass away

it took a while for them both to make it back

holding on and healing each other, whispering

sweet things into each other’s ears, renewed.

Charting a different course now, he writes her poetry

every day and his heart sings in the mountains.

And sailing together, they still enjoy whispering

sweet things, into each other’s ears.

         

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2015, ancient skies

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

Vision Quest

Mountains and Rivers 274

Nothing was working. He had come to the mountains a week ago in desperation, and he had tried everything, but nothing had changed. His friends were right it was too cold for a tent, so after one night of freezing outside, he rented a cabin.

It was just him and the fireplace now, with a few small pieces of furniture, and a kitchenette. He was thankful the bathroom wasn’t outside. He couldn’t imagine going out there at 3:00 in the morning, with no lights.

But there was no vision, and he sank deeper into depression. Were the self-help people right, that all the answers were inside of himself? He couldn’t buy it. There had to be something, or someone larger than all the problems in the world, even if they didn’t understand why things happened.

The next day there was a glimmer of hope. As he was cooking up some eggs in a frying pan, the thought came to him that maybe his life was not as messed up as he thought. So what if the company folded, and his wife left him, he was still alive right? Here he was in the beautiful mountains cooking eggs!

So what, if he didn’t have any place to go for Thanksgiving. There were probably millions of people just like him, meaning alone. He slept soundly that night even though the bed was still lumpy.

It was day 9 when he woke up the next morning, and the sun was streaming through the front window. There was frost everywhere, and then it hit him. He suddenly knew where he would be spending Thanksgiving. He would volunteer at the homeless shelter, and be serving meals. He knew at least part of the answer, was giving to other people.

It was then, that light began flooding his soul, and he wept.

        

Writing and Image © Copyright 2015, ancient skies

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

Losing a Soldier

Deep Woods 011

When one our own is lost,

killed in action,

the pain sinks deeply into our core

pulling our sense of community,

together into the sadness of love.

Our hearts instantly reach out,

to the families, even an atheist,

says a prayer, because there is too much

pain. Part of love is grieving,

so we become even more human

wearing the same uniform.

May they rest in peace.

       

Note: Please pray, or think some positive thoughts, for all those that have lost their soldiers, both men and women. Also pray for those that do protect us, so we can sleep peacefully at night.

        

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2015, ancient skies

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

The Beauty of Survival

Vacation 533

It was the spring you lost all your hair. I remember washing up at the sink, outside of your room, I mean really washing up. Then suiting up, mask, gloves, and surgical gown. The lady two rooms down died, and her family was there weeping.

But as I went into your room we had something. It was something we could hold onto. Was it strength? peace? an assurance? I can’t describe it. But we could sit there, and smile at each other. Me, behind my mask. You played music, and told me how good the people were.

It wasn’t until later that tears came. My heart broke completely. Over time, piece by piece, it came back together again, because we know how to heal each other. Maybe there are still a few pieces missing, but I love you even more now.

Please hold me again, and bury your face in my shoulder. I will always love you, and you know that, but rest in it. Always – even if you don’t have any hair. Let’s grow old together.

You are My Love, for always.

          

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2015, ancient skies

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

The Hidden Artist – The Bridge

Mountains and Rivers 373

“Oh, so that’s what it is.” Mary just looked at him, disbelieving. “You’ve shut down Richard……do you realize how awful that is?” “What do you mean?”, he asked, getting nervous that she would reject him. “In order to feel safe, in order to not feel pain, you have shut down internally.” He said nothing, but he guessed their relationship was over now, before it began. He looked out over the pond, realizing he had talked about the loss of his wife and baby, in the most monotone, robot-like voice he could.

For the next two days they did go walking in the park, but it wasn’t the same. Something was missing. He was even more afraid now to feel, than he had been before, and she was bored with it. When they stood on the bridge one day, she said, “Look Richard, I’m probably not the woman you need……you haven’t even showed me the paintings you have done…..” At that she looked slightly hurt. He wasn’t sure what to do or say. He knew he needed to live again, but he wasn’t sure how.

He did manage to say, “I really enjoy our time together.” She smiled but said, “Richard you need to paint again, and until you do, we are going nowhere.” “You need to find the light once more.” He scoffed and mentioned that if he did paint, it would be nothing but black and gray, an awful mess. “Then paint it!” She turned to leave, and looking over her shoulder, she said, “Painting is a bridge for you…… paint, and you will find life.”

He avoided her for three days, walking quickly past the gallery, to and from the elevator. She was hurt, and wondered if what she said, had been too harsh. She took a chance though and spent a lot of money on buying two tickets for a special exhibit, of original Van Gogh paintings. She wanted to go with Richard.

He was also taking chances. He wasn’t painting yet, but he started looking at the work he had done. He realized they were actually pretty good. He took a day off from work, and took two of his best paintings, to show Mary at the gallery.

As he walked in, tears filled her eyes. “I have something to show you…..”, he said. She was stunned, and said. “These are so beautiful!” They talked for a while, both smiling from ear to ear. They made plans to go to the Van Gogh exhibit. He said looking down, “Thank you for the other day……” That was all he needed to say.

Neither of them knew if they would wind up lovers, but suddenly life was better than a Monet painting.

        

I hope you enjoyed this series!

        

Writing and Image © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

The Hidden Artist – Friends

Maine and More 152

“I think you’re an artist.” Her voice scared him out of his daze, as he was looking at a wonderful photograph of the coast of Maine. He replied as he turned towards her, “Why do you say that?” “Because you’ve been in here every day this week, after work, studying the art.” “Most people look at the art and photographs, but you really study them.” He smiled at her insight. “Ok you got me, but I used to be an artist.” She scoffed, “Nobody used to be… you are for sure.”

It was strange that he was just now noticing how beautiful she was. She had short brown hair, with a round face, and her smiled always curved up the one side of her face. He was smiling back at her, when he said, “Hey would you like to go for a walk after closing?” He couldn’t believe he said it! It totally slipped out of his mouth, and why did he ask her to go for a walk? It sounded like junior high school, and he felt stupid. But he bravely continued, “I know this park down the street….” She interrupted him with, “….the one with the bridge that reminds me of Monet?” He was shocked. She continued with, “Sure I would love to, but not with these shoes.” They both looked down. “I have some tennis shoes in the car though.” There was that crooked smile again.

“By the way my name is Mary.”, she said as she stuck out her hand. He said, “Yeah I know.”,  pointing at her name tag, they both chuckled. “I’m Richard.”, he said. Once they had been walking in the cool autumn air for a while, Richard realized it was the first time, in a very long time, that he had a friend. 

As they stood on the bridge that reminded them both of Monet, Mary was bold with, “Why did you stop painting?”

        

The conclusion tomorrow!

         

Writing and Image © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

The Hidden Artist – The Gallery

painting by Claude Monet
                                        painting by Claude Monet

He always had kept a place in his heart for the Impressionists. He and Karina would spend hours in the art museum, in love with each other, discussing Monet, or Cassatt. As he stood looking in through the glass of the gallery, on his way to the elevator, he smiled for the first time in months. It was a reproduction from Monet.

His mind drifted, and it was almost as if he could smell Karina’s hair, and they were at the museum again, he was that close to her. He imagined his nose buried in her long, blond, beautiful hair, and he was whispering sweet words into her ear.

Suddenly he shook it off, angry with himself for feeling. He headed for the elevator with determination in his step. But at the end of the day, he stopped by the gallery on the way out.

He looked at his watch, and realized they closed in ten minutes. Taking a step inside was one of the bravest things he had ever done. As he walked in he was amazed at the original work by local artists, the nature photography, and the reproductions. He was stunned, simply by the beauty of art.

And then he met her. “May I help you?” Her name tag said, “Mary”. Shocked, that someone had spoken to him, he stumbled over his words, and said, “No I was just looking.” He quickly walked out the door. He didn’t realize it, but a door was beginning to open. It was only a small opening, but some light was starting to get in……

    

To be continued.

       

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

Image from en.wikipedia.org

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

The Hidden Artist

painting by Mary Cassatt
                                                 painting by Mary Cassatt

He enjoyed being a piece of stone. He refused to feel anything, and went to work each day, grateful for the routine, for something to do. No one knew who he was, or his background. Most didn’t even know his name. After Karina and the baby had died in the car accident, he had switched jobs, and he had instructed his new boss to never tell anyone. He made it clear he did not ever want hear, “I’m sorry to hear about what happened.”

So he faded very well, blended right in. All the friends they used to have, had been Karina’s, so it was easy to lose touch. He sold the house, moved into an apartment, went to work each day, enjoying the coldness of refusing to feel. It was safer.

He had stopped painting, and swore he would never paint again, because painting involved love, involved feeling emotions. He refused it every day. This went on for two years, until one day a small gallery opened up, on the ground floor of his office building.

It was the paintings that first caught his eye…….

To be continued.

         

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

Image from en.wikipedia.org

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“If you love nature, you will love people.”