Pressured

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Not just frayed but edges pressed

pulled away with time

in pieces laid open.

Broken bloodlines crushed

still reaching for daylight

heart in hand

in love-seasoned life. 

 

Photography courtesy of Guldman “TheGolden Hour” wordpress.com

 

 

 

 

 

Strandings…

img_5348.jpgThere is no imagination even

to find the journey

with lovers, dance and sacrament.

Evening shadows of vessels block the shore, the portals.

No tides, no swell. No circles of sun and moon.

Just flatland -well calculated, illustrated, dramatized and over spoken.

The daily grind , the inland

of forgotten life and being.

 

 

Image with gratitude via “Capturing The Imagination” WordPress.com

 

Catching Light

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She knew beauty from inside out

flaming life with gentle sparks

When death like cancer found her heart

beauty breathless cried for help.

She died too early for spring’s warmth 

beneath the surface broken, hurt

with hopeful lilies by her side

and dreams of color catching light.

 

-For Janice.

As the temperatures climb,

our hearts begin to race as we run to the cherry blossoms,

beholding the forgiveness of our mother earth as we are embraced by life itself, a

nd everything green in spite of our hatred for each other.

Have mercy.

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2017, ancient skies

via Beholding the Forgiveness — Ancient Skies

Beholding the Forgiveness

As the temperatures climb, our hearts begin to race as we run to the cherry blossoms, beholding the forgiveness of our mother earth as we are embraced by life itself, and everything green in spite …

Source: Beholding the Forgiveness

Nothing really.

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Empty places are not alone.

They are not so quiet either-

taunting and haunting thoughts

in exploding fragments full of grace

reforming time,

taking nothing really  into the soul

and finding there a divine space.