Invisible

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It’s not that men hide wounds within their frames

but our vision often makes them invisible

expecting callous hands

seeing only

their strength

ignoring really

who they long to become,

wholeness walking

in this earth.

     

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies

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We Still Seek the Colors in Our Light

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There are times our trauma rips open the sky, refusing to listen

to reason, taking our faith along the jagged edge,

with knives ready, yet we still seek the colors

in our light.

Surprised, we are drawn to the rose tattoos, blue

in the hair and loud guitars. Refusing

to accept the despair or another

tired sermon we grasp

the concert lights

and rock on

believing

in the raw power

that we are not alone

and we’re not gonna die

tonight.

Note: These guitars are very loud. Please be careful with the volume. However, I find the words incredibly encouraging and somehow the raw power fits beautifully. By the way, Jen Ledger is one of the best drummers you will find anywhere.

 

Poetry and Photo © Copyright 2018, ancient skies, Emerald jewelry by unknown artist, music by Skillet, fans of Skillet call themselves – panheads!

Splintered Rays of Light

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Even in our fractured world, there are still memories of what flowers did,

and splintered rays of light, chasing shadows from our grey,

causing loose particles of love to float,

within our reach, as we jump

and grasp, we can hold onto them now

even if they are just fragments,

pieces really, keeping us

alive.

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

Chiseled

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My Love, you took my iron, and turned it into gold,

a soft chisel, shaping and cutting away my roughness

and for the first time I could see the healing

the light so beautiful, and after these years

of river bending, your hand now reaching

towards my head, touching gently

and covering me, with your prayers,

I am finally, one.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

His Song Returned

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He wasn’t exactly sure when his song returned

but it was there now, for sure

filling his chest, his mind

with a sense of wonder

dancing.

Somehow sunlight

flowed again

as if

he had been

reborn.

      

He knew sitting on rocks

next to the waterfall,

breathing the mist

was part of it,

but there was more,

a sense of joy –

of being loved

her smile

always filled

him.

     

Peace of oneness,

and his song

was alive

Again.

      

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2016, ancient skies

Peace and blessings to everyone.

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