Into the Rain

I’m dusting off my leather bound journal, finding my favorite pen, and I’ve put together a small stack of poetry books,

on the kitchen table, including one called, Hope in the Morning……and later a walk into the rain, down by the lake,

if it’s not too cold. I love how rain drops fall, on the water singing their own special music.

Right now though it’s time for some cheesy eggs and toast, dipping in my tea bag into a steaming cup

making English Breakfast tea. I love these rainy mornings……

I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but been taking one day a week to recharge. I work alot

so I find it essential, and maybe we were made this way, but I didn’t pick a particular day, it just kind of happened.

So on late Friday afternoons until sometime on Saturday I’ll disappear, but only a little. I have preplanned a couple of posts.

Thank you so much for reading!

Peace.

      

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies.

Daffodils Tossed in the Wind

On a quiet morning, with daffodils tossed in the wind,

and cherry blossoms beginning to fade,

I smell the rain coming, and search the clouds

dreaming of yesterday’s sun,

and some calming

meditation.

      

Poetry, and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Note: From our house we can usually see the rain coming our way, over the mountains, and we often smell it in the air.

Today in the Rain

Today as I walked I carried my umbrella shielding myself from the sky, a light rain,

and puddle splashing, in my old tennis shoes, that I really should throw away,

and I realized, I needed to maintain my peace, a sense of purpose and strength.

It really is difficult to watch the brutality and insanity of the far right…..

but I needed to let the grief and anger go……in spite of the numbers increasing, in spite of them denying science,

I can choose to be descended from the sky and birthed by the ocean….and besides,

those that live in darkness and leather are nothing more really…..

than spoiled children craving power and attention.

May we win our battle with the endless peace witnessed by the earth, and sky and oceans, flowing strong within us…..

against the rage of insanity.

Amen.

Writing and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

Sacred are the Winds

As the winter fades, sacred are the winds

that carry new life to our ruins,

a pervasive warmth

a softer, gentler rain

washing away

our devastation.

We are hopeful now,

spring

is finding us.

          

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2020, ancient skies

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

Downpour

Torrential rains in a downpour

as the wind roars, ripping

through trees,

while dark clouds

cover the mountains,

making them invisible.

And I wonder – does God make storms so we can rest and do some writing?

     

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

The Spring Rain

In the autumn, the rain is cold and harsh, leading to ice

surrounding our hearts, but the spring rain

brings joy, with the life from above

and a smile to our faces,

as our hearts

are reborn.

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, 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.”