Surrendering to the Rain


Whispers in the mist, surrendering to the rain,

as the wind gently plays with the leaves

I suddenly remember

a younger thunder

when you and I listened

to those sounds, that story

only told by summer.

So young we were back then,

yet we do

still hold hands.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

The Darker Rain

When our trauma turns our view, slanting

the sky, releasing the grey within

cracked vessels, we often listen

to the darker rain, as if

there is a deliverance

in the mist.

And yet

having survived the false prophecy,

the breakage of our story

the empty dictators

of self speak,

we discover the desire

for a simple light

and for a sky

that speaks to us,

of a new story

not quite so broken.


Poetry © Copyright 2018, ancient skies

Quiet Mist


I like to watch the mist roll in, covering the mountains, and rain

wrapping around a cool fall day, tapping gently on our roof

it all reminds me somehow that water brings life

unhindered, and that quiet times

can wash us, taking away

our noise.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, Ancient Skies

Gentle Rain


Even though we need the sacred swords singing

from the Far East, and ten thousand horses

shaking the earth across the Great Plains

most likely the battle will be won

with the gentle rain

of a love poem.


Every time we create – we put another nail

in the coffin of hatred. So create

and be the gentle rain

that wins the fight.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

Peace and blessings to everyone.

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