Tags
becoming, cherokee, connection, death, dreams, family, fearless, grace, gravel roads, life, living, love, nature, old maps, reason, restless, self, southern, spirit, strength, truth, wisdom, woman, wonder
last I knew
the path grown over –
trees I loved were bending low
vine and cup with
secrets whispered –
of where we passed here
once ago
hands the same
though smaller somehow
tortured bark as web to ring –
learned of these
the lowly falling
more than colors died
for spring
come the passion now
for harvest
spare these ears
your lonesome knell
fill me up with sunlight
scattered –
ground to love
my feet so well
passed as years
through vein and valley –
crossed to crest
before the snow
hung a shade
of scarlet ribbon –
lifted there the skies
below
lark and lily –
worse for wearing
patient teachers (tears to dry)
eyes beseech
the naked branches
faith remains –
to wonder why
tornadoday 
True faith never dies…but grows always to daily embrace all of life’s changes! Loved the poem!
Thank you, Wendell. This was inspired by a stretch of road I pass on my way home, where they’re clearing out the woods to build a warehouse……. I’m sure they never noticed that I had stopped my car……… but I’m certain there were other hearts in those woods (other eyes just as full). *sigh* Truly, thank you. ~ Love, B
I think the first stanza is so lovey, the perfect opening for this tale.
Thank you……….and it was the stanza that was already written in my head before I ever thought to write it down. Thanks, Vanessa.
Love it when that happens! The ones that just tumble out are a joy.
They are more than joy ~ they are destined! 🙂
“secrets whispered –
of where we passed here
once ago
hands the same
though smaller somehow”
– Strange how looking at your hands recalls all they have played “once ago” and some days seem so small. “They look like such strong hands don’t they?….” ~Sighing as well, Dan
Yes, they do…….but most things change in our perception over time. To this day, if I drive by my grandparent’s old farm house (which is falling apart), I immediately think, ‘oh my, where did the orchard go ~ did they move the house closer to the road’. Our world changes and our memories rarely come along peacefully…… *double sigh* ~ Thanks, Dan.