When I Was a River


When I was a river the wordflow was easier,

and now there are still waters

running deeper

so I meditate,

diving within

to find the treasure.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Our Faith is Born in the Dark


Every candle lit, every lamplight we walk under

with a silent prayer

on our lips

is another stone to cross the river,

in the middle of the night,

walking on, stepping over

in spite of the dark.

Holding on, and moving


our faith is born

in the dark.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

If there is a Trickle


If there is a trickle left within our hearts, it is not only a miracle

it is a reminder, that we once had a river. And blogging sages

inspire, but only if we have the ears to hear.

Perhaps the river is only hidden,

and we can ask for

the gates to be opened,

so we can see

the power

in a new way,


one another.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, Ancient Skies

Shaping Our Prayers


It’s when are backs are against the wall, as the concrete grinds

into the skin of our backs, and we behold our cities

on fire, the desolation of generations

ruining the hope of many, that we truly

learn how to shape our prayers,

remembering how

the ancient rivers ran,

the ones

we used to know

so well.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

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