An Advent-themed poem by Wendy Jean MacLean

A winter-themed poem by William L. Norine from Ancient Paths Literary Magazine.

by Robert Ronnow You may feel about the planet what you feel about a great baseball team or band: that once there was a moment when,...

I stand on the threshing floor, In the busy harvest season. Seed runs through my fingers like water, Yellow air burns my eyes, and dust...

A shadow of sensation lies therein. The hungered truth is stumbling on the stairs. All pleasure which is measured is a sin And faith...

One of the most difficult tasks I face as editor of Ancient Paths Online is sifting through the many excellent poems published throughout...

As Mrs. Burns is slouching in her urn I suppose you'd say she'd like to be at peace although Joanna hasn't managed to reserve a plot....

Windblown, rain-born, mothers with children, their aged parents, arm-hung, basket-carried, free pedaling, four-legged, or three-legged,...

Published on the Ancient Paths Facebook page on November 2, 2019. Saul mounted the horse with his band of men Strong-minded in his...

Published on the Ancient Paths Facebook page on January 6, 2019. Did they camel-caravan together from the slopes of Iran, and navigate...

Published on January 12, 2019 on the Ancient Paths Facebook page. A butterfly floated face down in the warm pool. So I lifted it up, ...

Published January 19, 2019 on the Ancient Paths Facebook page. Addie Jones told how she grew up on a farm in Texas—“Dirt poor even before...

Published on the Ancient Paths Facebook page on January 26, 2019. The hermit said, “I have no need of hacksaws, files, dynamite, or...

Published on February 2, 2019 on the Ancient Paths Facebook page. Last night I walked the autumn woods alone in darkness. The fallen...

Published on the Ancient Paths Facebook page on February 9, 2019. "To everything, there is a season and a time to every purpose under the...

Published on the Ancient Paths Faceboo page on February 16, 2019. My metrical sin never goes away, Though I try to measure all that I...

Published on the Ancient Paths Facebook page on February 23, 2019. We walk with hands swinging at our sides hair in varying degrees of...

Published on the Ancient Paths Facebook page on March 2, 2019. Who will take the box With my ashes? Dry and white, It is last of eight....

Published March 6, 2019 on the Ancient Paths Facebook page. Cold kitchen rid of lard and all sweetness. Oven unfired, tomb for scents —...

Published March 6, 2019 on the Ancient Paths Facebook page. My soul is like the brilliant snow Which burdened fell one winter day Upon...