Wind Song


In the deepest parts of our forests, the wind song usually sings with a softer tone,

etched bark with outstretched arms, absorbing the prayers more fully,

a sanctuary of quiet, where poets are born again,

and filled with healing words

for our listening spirits.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

The Pathway


Words of poetry healing, yet knowing the darkness,

the resisting, being absorbed by our deepest parts

to show us the walk, the pathway

and that all of our words

are leading us,

on our own unique



It is there, just walk.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

The Winter Sun


The winter sun follows me now, as I make my way through the woods

waking up the bare limbs, moving slightly with the wind speaking,

whispering true, that shadows never bind us,

and that the cold air

is a strong arm – against the night.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

I Don’t Know What Happened


I don’t know what happened. I was minding my own business, when suddenly

the poetry filled me, taking over my pen, rising into my eyes,

filling my heart with light, so now I can see clearly.

Was it faith? Was it overcoming depression?

I don’t know, but one thing I do know –

I will allow the poetry to live

in my pen, releasing

an ocean into

my soul.


Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies