Still Filled with the Wind

That injured wing, still filled with the wind and lifted her,

even with pain and dried blood she was carried

soaring into the clouds, aiming for the sun

not exactly refreshed but it was working

both wings were part of her now

looking down, she refused

any sense

of despair.

Poetry and Image Copyright © 2022 rivers renewed

Survival

20160418_122232I was surprised when you produced such a clean set of daggars, even after I told you I was hurting……

but you didn’t care, even thinking it was funny, and yes your death blows were devastating……

but each one cracking, opening up a space for light, to seep through and slowly…..

I could see more clearly. Yes I died every day, but eventually I figured out how to pull my shape back together quickly……..

the fragments, the frozen pieces, and I began refusing your kingdom of abandonment and strangulation……

and I walked away, never running, because to be honest, I’m not scared of you anymore.

Note: I’m fine, and my wife and I are fine. We all go through tragedies of some type, dont we? These feelings are expressing pieces of what it feels like……to survive.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

The Earth Would Bring Healing

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She squinted through the snowfall, her determination burning once again, in spite of the howling wind.

She had followed the wings of the hawk, and now….was that a cave? They had been led here for sure….”C’mon my love!” she yelled to him, who struggled with each step.

He had saved her so many times, now it was her turn. They knew this was not the time for dying.

Once they collapsed inside the cave, they found it warm and safe. They had survived the ruination, the last of all wars, led by the spirit hawk, surely it was a sign.

The Earth would bring healing. There would be a spring, and hope…..was about to be born.

From the Apocalyptic Journal.

     

Writing and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

Walk On Spirit, Walk On

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Walk on spirit, walk on, past the shadows lingering

from our political ashes

beyond the rhetorical chains

walk on, and run into the safety

of earth and sky, where oceans release

our humanity, and poetry sings

a sweet melody,

into the center of our hearts,

where love is remembered

pulled out, rescued

from the lifeless

museum.

Walk on spirit, walk on.

   

Poetry and All Images © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

Laughing at the Hawk

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A hawk shifts slightly on one of the highest branches, as he listens

to a mouse below burrowing, through last year’s leaves.

A chipmunk jumps here and there, bolder today

due to the density of the fog,

laughing at the hawk, because

all of the creatures know

there will be no hunting

in the forest, today.

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

Journey

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I was attracted to her red, and lived in her brown, but we didn’t stay there

our spirits quickly took over, with the honoring of each other, we soared

into the blue, embracing the white clouds and beyond. We traded

the golden rings and were bonded. Children, and our lives

were always blessed by the sun. I enjoyed cutting the grass,

living in the green, planting seeds.

      

Grey began creeping in, and there was a decided attack of black,

the darkest of black. She managed to hold her head above

it, surviving in the grey, thinking I was her rock,

but I was only a shaking leaf, it wasn’t me

it was nothing but mercy that pulled

her out. We lived for a long time

fighting in the grey, sometimes

seeing patches of blue,

and feeling the warmth

of the sun.

      

And now I enjoy the green again,

cutting the grass, seeing her

spirit soar, even though

some may mock

our trauma.

      

It doesn’t matter anymore, as we stare

into each other’s eyes, remembering

the golden rings, we traded

so long ago.

      

The journey – of loving each other.

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

Peace and blessings to everyone.

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