Tags
becoming, connection, destiny, dreams, fearless, forgiveness, grace, gravel roads, life, love, memory, old maps, passion, restless, spirit, strength, truth, understanding, wandering, wisdom
a weathered brow
a broken fence
and paths I know by heart
steps above the water
glisten wet beneath the moon
voices rise in echoes
long forsaken
names reduced to memory
rust beyond the barn
shadows fill the spaces
once reserved for briar
was somewhere here
I noticed you were gone
in ways the geese were flying
winter blades to bow
darker stained the ribbons
to the wood
signs of you in everything
signs of life moved on
empty halls
of paper peeling
still the heart remembers
the sound of aching boards
beneath the dance
twilight spilled
through splintered glass
tied my mother’s apron
hand in hand
two steps away and back
the scent of rain
before a storm
lightning stilled the darkness
a moment clear
and all I saw was you
mysteries
as I’ve forgotten
other names and places past
miles have separated me
from love
I wish I knew
the path you took
which way to watch for mercies
lest you come again
remembered me
as home
tornadoday 
Beautiful, Bobbie! I just love these lines:
“shadows fill the spaces
once reserved for briar”
– they sing the chorus for the whole piece. Lovely writing. x
Thank you, my dear Angela. You’ve just made my entire afternoon! Thank you……… ~ Much love, Bobbie
My heart always feels like it is wrapped in a beautiful peace whenever i read your words…they are so full of life and always soothing to the spirit! Thanks Bobbie!
Dearest Wendell, I could hope for nothing more than just this – that my words give you a feeling of peace. Thank you so very very much! ~ Love, B
This is very beautiful. I love the writing, the images and it took my heart from beginning to end! Love, Great Work, Bobbie! Linda xoxo
Dearest Linda, always I find extreme comfort and a kindred sense of life through your understanding of my words. Thank you for the gift that is you. ~ Love, Bobbie
I can feel the different shades of pain in the weathered brow, the rust, the briar, the winter blades, the aching boards, the splintered glass. Beautiful, just beautiful. Love, Dee
Thank you so much, Dee. Funny how we find identify in the simple treasures of life, in a brush of aged denim, or the pattern of a glass once redeemed from a box of oats. When we touch memories, we find the thread that ties us to each other. And for that, I am most grateful. Thank you. ~ Much love, Bobbie
Really atmospheric, loved it.
Thank you, Vanessa. So nice to see you ’round! ~ Love you, Me