Tags
becoming, connection, destiny, dreams, family, fearless, grace, gravel roads, life, memory, old maps, passion, reason, restless, spirit, truth, understanding, wandering
take me back
the way we wandered
give me pause to turn around
plant my heart in fields of cotton –
e’er blossoms break
the tender ground
hold me close
the vow remembered
hear my words or let me be
the one you knew before as always –
was not for dreams you’d live
to see
nineteen sons
and thirteen daughters
east to west
the north come clean
take my soul but save the babies
of every sorrow passed between
hand in hand
the charge to carry –
burn my bones or let me fail –
ashes rained in sheets of maple
secrets stored beyond
the veil
tearful eyes
the lowly seeker
waits the choice to come again –
living love in autumn colors
golden reds remember when
southern skies
and not much needed
to make of life – a place for love
breath to breath
and time to question
would evermore be long enough
keep me here
as the rest is written
hands the same as yours – I know
will find the way
some other season –
as north to wander south
to home
Charles Codman Cabin in the Woods
tornadoday 
Darlin’ Girl,
I think you have to know that I loved this…, brought tears to my eyes, but I loved every word of it. Emotions I feel with this range from longing to love and the imagery in your words is nothing short of breathtaking.
xo….always and goodnight,
Paul
As I have been known to say (and you’ve been known to hear) ~ ‘there’s a life we live and a life we dream ~ and seldom are they the same’. I’m quite sure the southern skies dream still of you. Thank you, Paul. ~ Love, Bobbie
I’m enveloped in your ‘Southern Skies’ — the earth smells, the way the air feels on my skin, family roots that keep my feet planted on the ground, memories of what was and hope for what will be, and love–always love–remembered and dwelled within. Calling to me like a homing pigeon…xox
Oh, Jeannie. Thank you. Just this morning as I made the bed, I was thinking of various issues going on with people around me, and I thought to my immediate family (my brother and sisters) and knew (as a pigeon knows home) that beneath the things that don’t matter is a foundation of love that never gives way. Southern skies have loved me well, and long I shall love them in return. As I do you. Thank you, and you’re welcome under my stars anytime. ~ Always, Bobbie
Bobbie, this is one of your finest. The poem has and feels so acutely, tenderly and widely, love in the most beautiful sense and the writing is exceptional with its lyricism and “body”. I loved it. Heart, . Linda
…….and you just stold mine. Thank you for your love, dear Linda. ~ Always, Bobbie
As a southern boy a long way form home, I loved this. I actually left it for last in all my reading just to make sure I could really appreciate it.
Well, I’m fairly certain I’m not telling you something you don’t already know. No matter how far, southern goes with you. If all the world were parts of the body, surely the south is the soul……… 😉 Thank you, Seb. Let me guess, you’re from Kentucky and either living in Canada or Australia. 🙂 ~ Love, Bobbie
Baltimore, Maryland, ma’am, with and extended spell in South Carolina…. 🙂
Beautiful places, although I admit to spending more time in South Carolina than Baltimore. In fact, other than connections, I haven’t been to Baltimore in more than ten years. Ma’am? 😉 Love that, although I have friends who swear the meaning for that word is ‘no longer hot’……..so I take it with some exception! LOL.
Simply beautiful Bobbie, i am not a deep south son, but most of all my family is from virginia…and your words take me back to the open spaces!
…southern is a way of love, Wendell. No matter where you are, I know there are parts of your heart that can’t be anything but southern. Thank you. ~ Love, Bobbie
The beauty of the words grips my heart. Love, Dee
….then my words are blessed indeed, Dee. Thank you. ~ Much love, Bobbie