A Quiet in My Spirit

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As the depth sways, moving… gently this way and that,

waves rise holding on

to the light,

sending sparkles into the air

I sense a quiet…

within my spirit,

then a moment of prayer

washes over me….

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, 2019, ancient skies

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As the Wind Moves

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As the wind moves through the tall grass of the mountain

with a soft voice, a whisper really

reminding

we are of the earth carrying 

fragments of soil in our veins,

pieces of clay in our bones

and an echo of the divine

in our skies.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, 2019, ancient skies

Within the Thunder

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I wonder, does God get angry within the thunder? Or is it simply a matter of heat vs. cool air?

Last night I watched the rain from our porch, as if waiting for a revelation,

but it was only a downpour, pounding on the streets, driven by wind.

If God spoke……I didn’t hear Him…….at least, not this time.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Poetry….Came to Live

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It was the ruins. It had always been the ruins, curving his light, causing the blur….the whirl in his spirit.

He knew he was more though. Perhaps he did have an existence after all.

For him woodland trails were more than a healer, he wandered through half praying, because the woods were his teacher.

Waterfalls spoke, and God sent angels that could sense his scar tissue, providing a balm. He was different somehow.

Sprinkles from heaven began the new, and he was able to see the word structure clearly.

Within the wind and the sun he discovered lines. And poetry….came to live. 

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies